A Place in This World
by hennaluv
Summary: Having been mollycoddled her entire life & sheltered from the harsh realities of her birth, Ren Cullen's suffering from a major identity crisis. When you know your life's based on lies threatening to tear your world apart, where do you go from there?Canon
1. Chapter 1 Rio's Nomad

_I've changed the summary and revamped the fic. All in a bid to relieve a poised writer of her concerns regarding plagiarism. Ta to her, Twilighted forums seem to be prevalent with mid 30 something-year-olds dubbing moi a 'theme stealing friend' or whatever, so I'm trying to be vigilant with my work from now on. I'd like to publicly apologise to Kari and her band of merry men for being such a douchebag. It doesn't take a genius to realise there were hurt feelings on both sides. _

_Author's Note: __I'm not going to say I read all four books in the space of a week. That would just be a blatant lie. _

_I'm a slow reader. It takes me like five hours to read one chapter. It's pathetic… _

_I had however, read them prior to the catastrophe they dubbed a film (OHOHOH! CONTRO-VERSIAL?) _

_I warn you now: This fic is **detailed, wordy and probably not for peeps who want 'I LOVE YOU JAKEY!' so soon into the story**. _

_This story is intended to document Renesmee's journey and how she overcomes certain apprehensions, battles her own fears, and eventually learns to acknowledge her own self-worth. Finally she'll grow to realize Jacob's love for her is as real as day. _

_Its dark. It's twisty. It's probably going to be annoying, a__nd it'll probably want you to pop a happy pill at times._

_The reason? I'm using this fic as an emotional outlet for the things that pissed me off during the saga …**on behalf of Renesmee**. Poor kid. :( Love her! My extended anal AN is on my profile. Feel free to read._

_Stephenie Meyer: Thanks for having such an immense wet dream. They're your characters and I have absolutely no claim to them. I own eff all._

_Chapter tunes:_

_Sandi Thom- Lonely Girl _

_ Michelle Branch- Everywhere_

_ The Calling- One by One_

* * *

How much anger is set aside  
As each one of us cries  
Red light they come and they take him away  
In the thoughts, he'll be better, some day...  
Tied tight, can't see out your eyes  
That he's sure to shine, sure to shine  
In this deep dark, played out, reality show  
So, who's the man, with the plan,  
eating up all that he can?  
Don't you see, don't you see...

Do you ever think that things are meant to be?  
I know we all have our reasons why  
And now the power of one human being  
Has gone and changed so many lives...

One by One -The Calling

* * *

Remember simpler times? Times that made you think magic was real. Made you believe in fairy tales. That fantasy of what your life would be.

We've all dreamt about it. The white dress, the Prince, who'd carry you so effortlessly into his strong arms. Whisk you away to castle on a stone paved hill. You'd lie there in bed, your eyes closed and with complete and utter faith that that's real. That, that's how things will play out.

Those fairies at the bottom of your garden, the tooth fairy, _Santa Claus,_ they were so real, you could practically feel them. And it was a delicious warm, fuzzy feeling.

But then, without so much as a warning, you grow up. One day you open your eyes, and the fairy tale disappears. Gone. It's then, that most people turn to the things and people they can trust.

Problem is, what happens when that trust is completely destroyed? When everything you were sure of, that you had complete faith in, were based on lies? There's no book splaying the story out for us anymore. No written ending telling us how it all ends. What's terrifying is we're expected to go it alone and live it out…

One of Buddha's noble truths proposes that life consists of pain. Believe it or not, that's from his Dharma teachings.

Pain comes in all forms though. The small stab, a bit of discomfort, the random throbbing. The standard stuff we go through every day. Then there's the kind of pain we can't ignore. A level so great that it blocks out everything else. Makes the rest of the world fade away. Until all we can think about is how much we hurt.

According to Buddha, no _one_ life can be completely without some form of pain. I guess then, how we manage our pain is up to us.

I've learnt that with some truths, come pain. Pain. We try to anesthetize… ride it out, embrace it, ignore it…

I've tried everything. But it's always ugly. And you always hurt. The best way to manage it, I've noticed, is to just push through it.

Another of his noble 'truths' suggests that attachment is at the root of suffering.

A rather cynical outlook on life I suppose, considering it's from the Enlightened One. But nonetheless, I considered it to be true also. Because he based this noble truth, stating the reasons for suffering are our desire, our love, and our craving for the things we're unwilling to let go completely.

I let out a submissive sigh, my chest literally constricting at the very thought of what I silently held onto so desperately. I shifted rather uncomfortably in my seat, thinking of the one person I really didn't want to think about right now.

This is me riding through it. Because so painful was this _need_, this longing for him that it took me a week to get out of my hotel room when I arrived at Brazil little over a month ago. And that was only because the maid forced herself in, thinking I was in a catatonic state of slumber, which admittedly, _I was. _

I shook my head, urgently trying to focus on this book I held in my hand: _The cessation of suffering can only be attained when all forms of clinging and attachment are removed._

Simple enough- though I didn't know what to make of it. After all, my cause of suffering was...well, _myself._ How can I remove myself from myself?

There was an obvious way, I supposed, but then I knew mom would never forgive me. And after everything she went through to bring me into this world, I actually felt disgusted for even thinking up such a selfish means to an end. And then what would happen to Jake if I died?

I winced at the name.

_Focus, Nessie. _It was almost like a mantra now.

_Effectively, attaining and perfecting such detachment is a process that ultimately results in the state of Nirvana- a freedom from all worries, troubles, complexes and ideas._

Sounds nice…

_While removing these conceptual attachments, is considered the ultimate solution to eliminating suffering, the latter is easier said than done._

I snorted at that. Why was I reading this crap again? I didn't need a book to tell me letting go was hard.

_According to Samudaya, it is almost considered never attainable._

Great. Just fan-_freaking_-tastic.

_What do you do when you know your apparently perfect life, your very existence, was ultimately founded upon lies, each standing as an ivory domino waiting to fall? Seriously. _

For me, every blissfully unaware moment in life, a looming darkness seemed to want to bide its time and only make its presence known when it thought I was blessed out. Content even.

Because that's what happened to me. The looming darkness seemed to slap me on the face repeatedly, then decide to gag me.

I found out the truth. The truth surrounding my very birth. My birth and everything that happened before…_me._

What's worse, what infuriates me is that there's no one to blame for any of it. No one.

Pain. You'd think in the past two months it'd had enough from me, but it keeps wanting to cash in. two months ago, I was still happy. I didn't know anything, but I was happy. The happiest I'd ever been. I fell in love. for the first time in m life, I felt complete. Like I belonged…

On impulse, I shut my eyes tightly, as if physically wanting to push the thoughts away from enveloping me. I knew where it was leading me, and I just wasn't prepared to go there. Not now. Not again. But it seemed to wade its way through to me like a bad smell. The fairytale fantasy that I had so often as a kid would've been a nice form of escapism right about now, but I kept thinking about the reality of my situation. My life I left behind…

Jacob. Mom. Dad. All the relationships I had. It felt like a lie. _I_ felt like a lie.

_You just have to ride it out, Renesmee. Ride it out. Hope it goes away on its own._

As I sat there quietly, in this soft, comfy seat… in a country that felt so foreign to me still, I concentrated on the momentary flashes of light behind my eyelids. The ones people get when their eyes are shut for a long moment. This was what I did when I refused to cry now. Because every time I let myself go there, I cried. And I was sick of crying. I was terrified of feeling my heart break all over again.

Not long ago, I realised the truth is an uncomfortable thing. It's overrated. It's there to ruin you from the inside. To taint the love you considered so right and pure. Because, like acid spilling itself on raw skin, it's harsh and abrasive and oh-so immediate in its urgency to destroy. But then you hope the wound heals.

There are no solutions. No easy answers. You just breathe deep and wait for it to subside. The pain that is.

Most of the time, pain can be managed. I read somewhere space is said to make things easier, just as time can apparently heal. I'm counting on that one.

And sighing, I reluctantly opened my eyes; acutely aware of my wet lashes disentangling and separating from one another. So much for not wanting to cry…

Pain always gets you when you least expect it. Hits you way below the belt and doesn't let up. It doesn't forgive so easily.

I cleared my throat, swallowing back the pathetic, painful lump that was growing there and attempted to blink away the shameless tears. It was never easy for me to hide my emotions. Not even from myself, let alone a house full of acutely perceptive vampires or even a natural empath like Jasper.

_Uncle Jasper. Alice, Rosie…my grandparents. Everyone._

I couldn't help wondering what they were all doing right now. Were they still worried about me? I didn't want to think what they were going through, because it only highlighted how selfish I was being.

As a classic avoider, I began flicking through the book I still held in my hands, as if it still held interest to me,_ …it is throughout our lives that we unavoidably endure physical sufferings such as sicknesses, injuries, fatigue, old age, and eventually death._

Yeah, I should be so lucky.

_And so, life in its complexity is utterly imperfect and incomplete. Because our world, and every living being in it are subject to impermanence._

I snorted at that one. Mainly because of the misplaced significance to me. Because this is where I was stuck. Where the hell did this leave _me_? My family? I can't die. Not naturally. I don't age. Not anymore.

So what do such enlightened masters say about the damned? Creatures destined for a life of solitude? To roam and lurk in the shadows? To be inconspicuous. Undetectable and invisible. It wasn't really _living._ More liking spending forever running. Moving from place to place. From town to town. Desperately wishing for a good five, maybe six years of stability before people start talking. Before they notice how different we are. Before they realise _what_ we are.

I'm guessing they wouldn't know what to say. These enlightened ones. Assuming they had basic survival instincts, I'm guessing they'd scream and run probably.

The visual of screaming, bald monks desperately trying to run away from me shouldn't've made me laugh as darkly as it did, but as I sat on my own, idly leafing through pages of this god-awful book, I was doing just that. Chuckling to myself.

Because I was in a state of limbo in life, I found myself thinking about God a lot. I shared no preference in the teachings of Christianity or the other mainstream stuff. What drew me was how they had such a hold on their believers. How they had a lot to offer those who could relate.

I envied that.

I flipped through the pages, trying to force myself continue: _According to Lama Yeshe, it is when we become truly unworthy of life, fed up with everything… have simply had enough, that our real journey to liberation begins._

I'm still waiting on mine…

_Without this wish, we simply cannot. Indeed, without having a full appreciation of our predicament, it is very difficult to generate the wish to escape. _

I appreciate mine, absolutely. Escape seems to be all I'm doing right now…

And with the last words still ringing in my mind, I began to give my stiff neck an awkward one-handed rubdown. I placed the book, _Introduction to Tantra,_ down and sat back, leaning against the spongy seat and let my eyes briefly sweep the massive room, pointlessly checking for any sign of life in the library. I say pointlessly, because I already knew it to be empty. The section on ancient philosophy and religion in the Biblioteca Nacional- the National Library of Brazil wasn't exactly the place to be this week. Which was precisely why I wanted to hover obsessively in an empty library by myself.

I wanted to be alone. Alone to quietly deal with it. Because that's all you can really do in this situation, right? Instead of hoping for the fantasy fairytale to come true, you just have to fight through. Ride it out. Because there's no point taking others down with you. And the truth is, even the best avoiders aren't fast enough. You can't outrun it.

The city of Rio or more specifically downtown, Cinlandia Square offered a wide range of activities for jaded tourists such as myself. I say jaded, because I'm depressed. Right now, I chose to snuggle myself between books all day. But like all tourists here, I went to ogle _Cristo, _for forty-five minutes. He seemed nice. I luxuriated on Ipanema Beach and watched the surfers ride the waves like Jacob and his pack did back in La Push. I visited Lapa, the birthplace of samba. That too, entertained me for an hour. It was when my usually chirpy dance instructor started grumbling things in Spanish that I was acutely aware of how anti-social I was being. He kicked me out of his class.

Most people would be questioning why I would put myself through that if I wasn't in the mood. Frankly, I had one word: Vivi.

Prior to flying out, I had been chatting online with a Brazilian girl I met on a traveller's website. It took quite a bit of convincing to get my now-personal tour guide, Vivi, to come out and show me Rio through the eyes of a local. She was lovely and funny. Sometimes she made me forget everything for a fleeting moment and I felt like I could breathe again.

It was strange, but she made me feel normal. Maybe it was because she didn't really know me. Know who I really was. _What_ I really was.

But then I knew a month had passed and- like Mexico- it was time to move on. To leave and head further south in search for some answers to new questions I was now asking myself…

Only one person sprang to mind. One person who would know the uncertainties I was feeling. Who could quite possibly relate and would perhaps hold the answers I was so desperately trying to acquire…

As I chewed over the prospect of meeting an old friend, the booming music from the streets outside could be heard even inside the expansive interior of the library. I had urged Vivi to let her hair down and enjoy tonight instead of joining me as I thoroughly immersed myself in the official depository of Brazil's heritage.

This was my fun: surrounded by a vast collection boasting nine million items and artefacts in the largest library in the Americas.

And then I realized Edward would love this place. He'd be in his element. I didn't even know if he'd had a chance to come here. _Had_ he had a chance to come here? I'd have to come back with him sometime…

I laughed quietly, aware how easy it was to forget everything I knew…

If only it were that simple. I shoved the uncomfortable feelings to one side and dug into further explorations of the ever-changing demographics of Brazil. Like for example, there was a growing population of Japanese nationals and homosexuals choosing to reside in the very pleasant beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema.

Interestingly, I noticed that neither had a distinct correlation with the other. Why would there be?

Closing my Macbook, I realised I needed to interact with more people and surveyed my surrounding one last time. The muted samba music playing outside reminded me why I was in here in the first place. I was hiding.

Standing up, I grimaced. The thought of wading through the crowd to the Candelaria Church a few streets down wasn't exactly screaming fun to me. But this was something I had to do. I wanted to feed this childish paranoia I recently started experiencing and wanted to find out for sure if I could walk past a church's threshold and not die. That, and the church was now a makeshift home for street kids and I wanted to check it out.

The air was thick with an aged musk that could only be contingent to old literature. I took my time packing my things, smiling to myself as it made me think of my grandfather's study. How he'd let me stay in there for hours, letting me read to him…

I remember a brilliant mahogany panelled room, filled with hardbacks. And the gnawing smell of wood polish that always made me think of home. It was always thick and heavy in the air and nearly always lea\d me to Carlisle's study.

Indeed, the New England house I grew so fond of as a childhad everything I could ever want and more. It offered me security. Love. It helped in shaping an identity.

Shaped me into the woman I am now…

_…'Did you know __a war god from the earliest times, Odin, appeared in Scandinavian heroic literature as the protector of heroes?' _

_I looked to be about physically six in this recalling. My heavy, dishevelled hair at that age was remarkably feral even for Alice. _

_I remember him smiling in response to my question, a glitter of indulgence in his amber eyes. 'No, Darling,' he said softly, 'I didn't…'_

_Clearly this was a lie. Granddad knew everything._

_At the time, I nodded along however, enthused by this new world I found in Norse mythology. So stirred in fact, that I was completely oblivious as to where the smell of fried chicken wafting into the room, was coming from._

_ 'Fallen warriors were believed to join him in__Valhalla.' I read, pausing only to repeat the word 'Valhalla,' and emphasise the vowels slowly. _

_It was then that I acknowledged my mom, flitting into the room with a plate full of nuggets in her hand. That explained the fried chicken. _

_'Fallen warriors…'_

_Carlisle chuckled to himself as he leafed through some paperwork on his desk.__ Meanwhile Bella was attempting to catch my attention: apparently my plate full of midday snacks was getting cold. _

_While Granddad was arranging patient files, I sat ogling the weighty walls and daring to eat a chicken nugget. Row after row of shelves were stacked meeting the high ceiling. 'How long did it take you to read all these books, Grandpa?'_

_'Oh,' he breathed, briefly meeting my Mother's amused eyes. 'I'd say a very long time, Sweetheart…'_

_'Doctors read a lot don't they?'_

_He nodded, 'We have to.' _

_'Do you think I'll be able to read them all someday?'_

_He chuckled softly. 'I'm counting on it…'_

_I remember smiling toothily at that before burying my face in the book I was holding. 'Is Valhalla real, or is it just a hopeful surrogate for the unknown?'_

I was an avid reader. Always have been. I spent much of my childhood immersed in the worlds only literature offered. Voraciously devouring libraries of poetry and fiction, science and the humanities. Lost in facts and figures- In theories and papers…

I chuckled to myself, remembering how unbelievably naive I was back then. How simple things were. I was just a kid who wanted to follow in her Granddad's footsteps. I wanted to, one day, grow up and help people the way he did.

And yet as I looked back at the doting affection that seemed to envelope my life, it felt like someone else's life. A former self who was completely ignorant and mind numbingly oblivious to everything around her. Who didn't think to question the limitless opportunities that were simply handed to her. Never questioning her lifestyle or the real reasons behind the random relationships I held.

In retrospect, it felt like it was all a lie. And unreasonable as I knew it to be, I felt betrayed by everyone I loved. And the betrayal stung. It hurt so furiously to know they didn't trust me enough with the truth. As if I was some fragile _thing…_

Too weak and fickle to comprehend the difficulties prior to my birth. Too self-absorbed and naïve to question any of it.

Swallowing back the painful lump that had now risen in my throat, I hadn't realised I had packed up my things and was making my way out of the huge building. It had been a while since I visited a public place of reading. And with that, I couldn't help smiling at another memory consisting of my uncles placing a bet against Dad. Somehow that involved Edward taking it upon himself to take me to every library in New England before I reached full maturity.

As such, Boston was a favourite of mine. I had to play my part as a curious five-year-old holding my Daddy's hand as I made my way up the relatively large stone-paved steps, struggling as I did so, with my little legs failing to quite reach. I was quite the actress and I knew Edward enjoyed me pretending to be human.

With my thoughts inevitably back on the life I left behind, I found myself outside, into the humid, evening air. In the crowded streets of downtown Rio to be more exact.

I'd never intended on coming here. In fact, I never planned on travelling at all. But the overwhelming need to just runaway from everything, to disappear from everything I knew, led me to be away for over two months.

I didn't know why I chose South America. It was just a random place to simply get away. I left my old life in Seattle. My home. My housemate. My job. My _patients…_

My first stop had been Mexico last month, but I soon grew tired of the feel-good parties and the amazing food. So with my massive sombrero in tow, I was lured to beach-clad, soccer-frenzied Brazil. The place is beautifully nestled between two dome-like mountains, which I've repeatedly climbed up. Mainly out of boredom during my morning runs.

The place shouldered platinum-white beaches and blanketed the world's largest urban forest. A place where samba, soccer, beach and barbeque are worshipped like a religion. The city had everything to offer someone who wanted to be occupied. Who wanted to be reckless…

I waded my body through the packed streets, realising only now why I had fled so willingly into the library in the first place. After surrendering to Vivi's need to party, I found myself hiding indoors after a mere hour and using the library as a makeshift sanctuary.

It's Carnival here in Rio. Week long celebrations. And I am, in all honesty, not that excited about it.

Mixes and explosion of vibrant colours, repetitive music, inexorable _joy_ and costumes that barely covered the necessary were everywhere on the streets.

It's not that I don't like Carnival. On the contrary, I'm completely fascinated by it. This year however, I simply preferred to take a step back and watch from the sidelines. Preferably from within the safe confines of my welcoming hotel room.

I really wasn't in the mood to walk down any swirling, black and white paved footpath on Ipanema Beach at sunset. I really wasn't in the mood to be handed an _aqua de coco_**,** and expect to dance in the streets, clapping as the sun sank into the sea.

I wasn't in the mood. _Not today..._

_Not on his birthday._

I took my Polaroid out of my shoulder bad and slung it over my head, as if desperately trying to keep myself occupied. I never wanted to be alone with my thoughts for too long. It seemed to always lead back to him. It was like he was everything I knew.

I bit my lip this time. As if it was a physical cue to not go there. I wouldn't go there.

It seemed to work most days. When I wasn't alone...

And as I took in the flurry of colours and sounds surrounding me, I thought it was a good time to capture the little moments. My Mom wanted me to track my travels in a diary. She loved my collage of Mexico, with the screaming kids draping off me clothes, but wasn't so fond of my other altogether crazy leisure pursuits. I got the impression my newfound love for paragliding and cannoning for instance, seemed to leave a lasting impression in her emails.

I peered through the camera lens and incidentally couldn't help shaking my head at Bella. All this worrying, despite her knowing of my added physical advantage…

I guess that's what moms are for, right? Certainly it was times like this, the guilt ate away at me and I wanted to go home. But then I would think about the reasons why I left in the first place. I'd stop short, unequivocally rooted to the spot.

It was here, in Brazil, that I found myself in some strange, ironic disparity to how I was feeling inside. The streets were full of people celebrating all along the country. The party was everywhere, in every city, in every region.

I snapped a few kids playing with some streamers …three old women laughing at the younger, cheeky girls…

I couldn't help grinning at their infectious laughter. Sites like this weren't that foreign to me. Indeed, having pestered them for months about wanting to go visit Frina and her Amazonian sisters, I did the whole Rio experience a few years back with Edward and Bella.

I snapped a little black-haired, bronze-skinned kid straddled on his dad's shoulder. A huge, contagious grin was plastered on his face. A part of me winced inside.

With my parents, it was certainly an interesting cultural experience I ventured, but after I had a claustrophobic-induced panic attack at one of the many children's parades, Edward wasn't so thrilled to take me to heaving streets filled with unsuspecting bystanders anymore. I admit, the onslaught of scents bombarding my senses overwhelmed me. But what I feared the most was slipping. Succumbing to my thirst. I had this horrific image in my mind of a four year old committing a bloody carnival massacre and for that reason, I remember I wanted out.

Because it was yet _another_ reminder of what I am and what I couldn't hide no matter how much I wanted to bury that side of me.

Moving mechanically around the swaying bodies, the thought of my childhood vacation with my parents made the home-sickness I was already feeling all the more potent.

I would cling to Mom for dear life. Resting my head all too willingly against the crook of her neck and shoulder, I'd use her thick curtain of hair as a veil. I would plunge my senses, concentrating on her delicate and distinct, floral scent: Honeysuckle and lavender. With what smelled like cool, humid air just before the pending rain. So comforting.

I sniggered to myself, remembering how her body was practically the perfect playground to hang like a monkey. Particularly useful when I wanted to hide. Because hiding myself from the world was perfect in Bella's arms. _That _was my childhood sanctuary. A place I always called home. Where I felt safe, loved and wanted.

Not for the first time today did I have to swallow back the painful lump that had risen in my throat. I missed my Mother with an ache so acute, I was sure it was bordering onto some sad compromise of separation anxiety. It was pretty pathetic. She and my dad were currently residing in their own penthouse apartment, overlooking the Seattle skyline. Actually, dad bought the whole three-story complex. I didn't feel the need to ask why…

Just before I left for Mexico, they had only just arrived back home from their second honeymoon. It was decidedly longer than their first one, because I wasn't there to gatecrash it.

I remember the day I went to pick them up from Seattle Tacoma. The sun was out, which was a rarity in itself, but also a stark contrast to my emotional state that day. It was also the main reason why they wanted me to park at the front in a car with tinted windows. Just three days prior to meeting my parents, was I tampon shopping on behalf of Claire in La Push's _only pharmacy._ I didn't expect to find Kim and Rachel sorting through pregnancy tests.

But they were.

And with my mouth gaping after I inadvertently overheard Kim talking to Rachel about Jake's history with my mother, I dropped a bewildered Claire off home and got the truth out of Quil. After that. things are fuzzy. I think I just drove for a while, all the while, shaking. Having a weird, out of body experience.

After calmed down and the initial shock wavered in lieu of more sensible thoughts, I asked my family to kindly respect my decision to not call them up. I wasn't going to haul them back like I did the first time. It did mean however, that they were completely oblivious when they landed…

To say I was trying to shove my thoughts at the back of my mind as I leant against the car that day, was an understatement. I knew that before the plane hit the tarmac, Edward already knew everything that was swimming in my mind. Every furious outburst, every conflicting feelings of betrayal, of doubt in every relationship I ever had…

It took me three days to think straight. To think of exactly what I was going to say to them. How I was going to act... What I was going to do after I got everything off my chest… but I was still a mess.

Now, as I weaved through the throng, I sighed in frustration. Again, in an effort to forget the crap I left behind, I thought of anything _but_ the unpleasant facts inadvertently dredged out by talk on the reservation. Like how claustrophobic I felt amongst the sweltering bodies. I could literally taste the sweat, the heat, the blood.

Today of all days, my temper was less than extended. For one thing, getting around and within Rio is a piss take. Traffic's always terrible and driving is certainly not for the faint-hearted. And now that it's Carnival, the roads are pretty much blocked. There was no way to escape. Not unless I _somehow _managed to get to the other side of town, to my hotel room- a feat I didn't consider likely right now.

But then it was hard to ignore the fast-paced thumping of the samba as it continued to reverberate from the speakers situated on the heavily decorated floats passing through. Pounding so heavily against my cranium like a herd of stampeding elephants, that I felt like my ears would bleed. Maybe they were, but I would never know…

It was times like these when I loathed having naturally enhanced senses. Though the music is great, it's the same short songs played _continuously_. I found it a little tedious after the hundredth play- I actually _counted_ subconsciously within the safe confines of my sanctuary back in the library.

Taking my camera once more, my HD vision scanned the multitude out of boredom this time. Mom would've loved this. Sophisticated carriages… beautiful women unabashed in their dancing…fantasy costumes living up to any man's wet dream… people alleging songs containing political and social messages… More specifically: A man taking an unusually long drag… a large russet skinned, black haired man leaning against a wall- arms crossed over his large chest, staring through the horde straight at me.

_Wait._ _What?_

Straight away, like a knee-jerk reaction, I tore my eyes from the camera lens.

_Russet-man staring straight at me. Staring straight through the people. At me. _

In that split-second moment whoever this man was, rendered my thoughts unintelligible. It was as if time stood still and I stopped breathing. Things were in motion at a freakishly slow pace and it was as if my heart-rate jolted painfully before slumping completely. As if in sync with everything else that halted to a stop, my own body paused mid-step as I frantically tried to focus in finding this guy.

I forced myself to look closer, slower. My extrasensory gaze caught everything insignificant, but nothing substantial. Of course, it didn't really help that a nation brim with gym-built bodies surrounded me. That, and almost everyone had a natural tan here. It was ridiculous.

As I stood there in a sea of oblivious people, lost in my own thoughts, I failed to register what was happening to me- what was going on around me. It seemed as if my slow-paced surroundings appeared to reset itself, like a stopwatch resuming its counting.

And then I lost my footing and I tripped over myself. But for a moment, for a split second, it looked like I didn't care that I was being thrown by the mass in no visible direction. Like I didn't care about where I was going, or whose hands were groping me. I didn't care that I was falling through a crack; I knew was going to struggle get out of. But I managed to regain my footing and concerted on orienting myself past the swaying bodies I couldn't really see anymore. I was too engrossed on the spot next to the old man taking another long drag.

The spot where Jacob just stood.

Jacob.

Baffled, and rejecting the idea that he was here, my attention was briefly torn between looking for Jacob and being uncomfortable by the throng of idiots fumbling me. I shoved them off and swept over the crowd one more time, urgently looking for the russet-skinned man.

_But he could've been anyone… _a conscious, more rational side explained to me.

But then I didn't want to believe that. My hopes were already so high, it was pathetic. I was torn as to how to really feel about the prospect of seeing Jake here. A small part of me was hoping it _was_ someone else. Because the truth is, I wouldn't know what to say to him. I wouldn't know where to begin. And I didn't trust myself to walk away from him for the second time. I didn't think I had the strength after so long.

As it turned out, I was having little luck locating him. And as the people around me continued to enjoy the festivities, I just stood there frozen like a lemon, my eyes glazed over in a state of confused… apathy? No.

My heart sank just that little bit further, painfully so, into my stomach.

He was gone.

It was unbearable sometimes. But…

_Jacob._

As my sight was clearly failing me, I inwardly grimaced at what I was about to do. In an effort to locate his distinct scent, I inhaled through both my mouth and nose- a technique I long since used during my hunting days.

My insides recoiled instantly, _instinctively._ Rio's humid, evening air tasted like a strange mix of sweet and sour. Blood and sweat.

I shivered. Upon arriving in sunny Rio, I came to understand that I despised the sun. The heat made people sweaty. It raised the heart rate, pumping blood more quickly around the body. So naturally, it wasn't in the slightest because the sun affected me in any way. It was everyone else around me. In huge groups of exposed, sweaty masses, totally oblivious to what I am, it was difficult. Particularly when packed so tightly together for an extensive, long period. More often than not, blood, sweat and alcohol permeated the hot, humid air, assaulting my sensitive senses with a force so potent; it took me a while to get a grip. It also floored me when I first got here, how sensitive and aware I'd become to that side of me. Because, being half human, stuff like that was never really an issue for me. I worked in a hospital, healing sick kids for crying out loud.

But as I stood there, taking everything in, I was lagging. Rusty even. Locating his scent like this was hard enough in a secluded forest, but here, out in the open, in a strange sea of party-goers, it was next to impossible for an out-of-practise hybrid.

I found myself taking deliberate steps closer to where he stood, where I last saw him, and it was as if I could breathe again. It hit me like some much needed breath of fresh air. And it was as if I needed it- wanted to choke on it, like a swimmer just out of the water and desperately needing to catch their breath.

I was confident it was his scent I picked up amid the ocean of human blood and sweat on the streets and my heart leapt furiously. As if physically trying to catch up to him all on its own. I didn't know what to do with this revelation. Should I follow it? Track him down? What then? Oh God. _Did he want to see me?_

A part of me wondered, why, after deliberately meeting my eye, did he walk away? Deep down, I felt I already knew the answer. He was checking up on me, of course. Because the truth is, the inevitable, unavoidable despotic force of the imprinting dictated him to do just that. He had absolutely no choice on the matter. It was a compulsive need for him. Like a drug. And there was absolutely nothing I could to do release him from the invisible ball and chain…

But I couldn't contain the need to find him now. It felt wrong not to go looking, when I knew he might be a few blocks away... it almost felt like _I_ had no choice on the matter either. But as quickly as that train of thought had entered my mind, I let it go. I didn't think the imprinting worked both ways, because I physically wouldn't've been able to walk away from him the day I left. That's not to say I didn't love him. Because I did. I loved him.

In the brief seconds it took me to figure out I wanted to follow the scent not, regardless of not knowing where it would eventually lead me, it seemed it had already dissolved in the sultry, evening air.

I must be losing my mind, because that wasn't possible. Losing a scent so quickly didn't just _happen._ Did I just imagine it all?

In a rare moment of clarity, I realised my camera still hung around my neck, resting on my chest. Desperately, I went to check the images I captured just a few moments ago, thinking I may have inadvertently taken a photo of whoever it was.

Leafing through at a speed I didn't think the camera could handle for long, I found nothing.

_Nothing._

I must've forgotten to press the button when I took Jacob in.

That painful sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach was back. But the disappointment was overshadowed by confusion now. It all felt so real. His stare. The intensity and longing in them… he held my gaze for a full ten seconds and everything I kept bottled up, the things that I wanted so desperately to forget, came rushing back to the surface like a volcanic eruption. It left me paralysed, with only my memories in its wake.

That cant've been my own doing…

I must be seeing things- a simple hallucination. My subconscious letting me know I was plainly suffering from withdrawals or something.

The rational thing to believe then is that the man could've been anyone. A Carioca, perhaps. That was plausible. This place is a cultural mixing pot of European, African and indigenous Indian descent, so the natives of Rio came in all shapes and sizes.

But then I couldn't shake something off: There was something so familiar in the way he held himself. In his stance, in the way in which his large arms crossed over his chest- the way he leant against the wall… so casual, almost cocky.

_All_ a signature move of Jake's.

And he looked straight at me. Like he knew me.

I didn't realise my face was wet until a kid started pointing at me and asking her mom if I was okay in Portuguese. In light of everything, crying was a waste of time. I had places to be. Things to do. This thing with Jacob right now seemed to undo all the hard work I did in the last two months. And I couldn't afford to have an emotional breakdown right now.

As the masses continued to watch the various performances, I took it upon myself to avoid getting engrossed in the infectious party vibe. Partly because there was a gnawing part of me, buried deep inside that kept telling me I didn't deserve to enjoy myself. Not when he was out there, suffering because of me. it was a part of me that wanted to run back to him. to be in his arms and not move. The part that felt like doing all this was making everyone miserable.

But things in life weren't that straight forward. Happily ever afters usually came after serious hardships…

And right now, I wouldn't let myself hope, or _fear_ that he had come for me. I wouldn't allow it. Remembering the reasons I left in the first place, I wouldn't go there. Our last exchange was one of anger and unforgivable things, things that weren't so easy to withdraw once they were out, were said that day. And it was all mainly on my part.

I wouldn't let myself hope because I knew I wouldn't know how to take it all back. And I feared it because I wouldn't know if I had the strength to send him back to La Push. To let him live his life… without me.

Knifing through the crowd, I passed downtown Rio's many street parties, known as blocos- a stark, ironic contrast to the storm that was churning inside me. I passed the streets that apparently, now constituted as a colossal dance floor throughout the country. I paused momentarily to watch them all and took a snap. They were all so happy, completely letting go of every inhibition. So free. So _happy._

I passed revellers dressed up in both exquisitely detailed and scantily clothed costumes. Some even put on outlandish hats and masks. I couldn't help grinning as a small child perched on her father's shoulder danced off-beat to the music. I laughed, swallowing back the ache for my own dad right now. She noticed me taking a photo of her and giggled an contagious giggle my way.

I knew there was something else I missed so acutely. _Kids._ Looking into the little girls eyes, I was reminded of a former life, of things I'd left behind. My patients. I worked so hard in my paediatrics fellowship, but because I didn't know who I was anymore, it felt like some other Nessie belonged there. Not me. Not dark, twisty Nessie. It felt like I was letting it all go… letting myself go. I didn't know how long I'd be out here having my breakdown in South America, so before I left, I'd let work know I was on a sabbatical.

Passing a couple who were undoubtedly on the verge of breaking the no-sex-rule in public, I had to stifle an urge urge to gag. Fortunately for me though, there's no sex during the parades. There is certainly no sex in public in general. There are, however, copious amounts of intoxicated men urinating in public I've noticed, which I still fail to get used to.

With that in mind, I crossed the road, careful to avoid touching anyone. There would be times when I was so consumed in my own thoughts, that I would on the rare occasion, allow people in without realising it. _Jacob loved that…_

But I had to stop that. I had to shove all thoughts of Jake in a safe place. It went against everything I wanted, _everything I needed _and I hated it. Not thinking about him was like trying to get myself to ignore the thirst I craved almost every night. I shoved my hands in my pocket, not wanting to think about my vices, and how long I hadn't gone hunting or the last time I saw Jake.

It was then that I grew aware of a bunch of thoroughly inebriated eyes deliberately examining my slouching form. I didn't like how fascinated they looked. Like they were set on pursuing their next line of entertainment.

Great. Just what I need right now...

"Ei, bebê..." _(Hey baby…)_ One guy clumsily splurged, to get my attention. "…_Damn,_ tão sensual!" _(Damn, so sexy!")_

I visibly grimaced. Something they didn't like, I noticed... I decided to pick up my pace. It was remarkable how I noticed one getting up and heading down a spiral staircase adjacent to their veranda, as if about to attempt his way through the crowd.

"Ah, don't go…" he continued, feigning hurt.

Through my peripheral though, the faces had obnoxious grins plastered on their mugs in response.

"O que está fazendo você em você é próprio?" _(What are you doing on you're own?)_

I'm not naïve. You get some guys that are just creepy as creepy can get, and most days I wasn't phased. However, tonight of all nights- on his _birthday,_ I wasn't as impervious to it. In fact, so desperate was my need to forget everything, to feel nothing, I did the complete opposite and wore my irritation like a mask.

"Hey! Wait, Miss!" The man continued. The others sat watching from a balcony in a restaurant overlooking the bloco. I couldn't help noting it was from a perfect position to observe the dancers and the cleavage of the onlookers.

"Please, Miss! Why not stop, eh? You're so beautiful. Let us buy you a drink?" This new one who spoke leant so desperately against the frame that I thought it might snap with his weight. It gave me a chance to really look at him. The man looked old enough to be my father- possibly _older_. I didn't miss the irony there, considering my own biological father looked little over seventeen and was indeed, over a century in epoch. Old enough to be my great grandfather in reality.

But these creeps were beyond smashed and I certainly was _not_ in the mood to deal with drunken ogling and sleazy pickup-lines. Not today.I frowned, feeling the ache of longing, for Jacob. Did he want to spend his birthday with me? Is that why he was here? If that were the case, why didn't he just approach me?

_Probably because you told him you never wanted to see him again?_ The gnawing voice buried inside me prompted. _For the same reasons you wouldn't want to approach him…_

A sigh of relenting- of an irrational _yearning,_ escaped my dry lips. Looking up, I ignored the rabid thirst that was consuming me from within and instead fixed my eyes to the sky. It felt like I was lost in a stupor, gazing so fixatedly above at the raven-black canvas of unlit heavens.

Where were the stars tonight? Perhaps it was Rio's omission of light into the atmosphere that was causing even my enhanced vision to be blinded and robbed of the luminary suns above us…

Not for the first time, had my thoughts ventured unknowingly at the possibility of what he was doing right now. Was he celebrating his 29th birthday on his own? I didn't like the idea of him all alone today. Was searching for the stars like me tonight, I wondered…

"Stupid stuck-up bitch." The fat man from the balcony spat, drawing me back to feeling empty and worthless again. "Thinks she owns the place 'cause she's a tourist. C'mon, Estefan," he ushered the guy who was trying to get to me through the crowd, "This bitch isn't worth it. She's _American_… high maintenance."

I wry laugh escaped my lips. People here speaking English, are regularly assumed to be American. I guess I fit the stereotype. I gritted my teeth though, visualising the various ways I could easily make this donkey cry.

_Walk away, Nessie. _

But I couldn't. I _wanted_ to scare the crap out of these idiots.

In that crazy moment where I only saw red, a totally random memory floated to the forefront of my mind:

My father had told me of stories before he met Mom. That his presence naturally _scared_ human women as well as intriguing them. Though I'll reluctantly admit, he still received a great deal of interest from the ladies. Ladies of all shapes and sizes. Of all ages. Housewives. Mothers. Teachers. _My teachers. My friends._

Understandably, it was a concept that, _to this day, _made me want to hurl, but reverting back to my initial point, to the obscure, human eye, there was always something there that made them aware. That would make them _see_ what he really was: a killer, preventing them from ever coming near. I always joked that this proved my mom had absolutely no innate ability of self-preservation. Dad didn't think that was funny.

He theorized that when he met my mother however, his guard was almost completely down in that respect- he became a _protector_ rather than upholding his natural instincts as the world's most powerful predator. Much to Uncle Emmett's obscene pleasure, dad effectively lost his _edge_. Which apparently meant he was 'sexy' and approachable for women now, whilst Jasper and Emmett retained whatever it was dad had. I remember sitting on the kitchen island trying to eat my cereal when this conversation was going down.

Emmett left the room singing _Sex Bomb _and I pushed my bowl away.

The memory seemed to occupy me long enough to notice I was well away from the morons. Carefully walking around the sweltering bodies, I noticed they were completely oblivious to my passing. I was quietly relieved. Usually it's impossible blending in with a bronzed, beach-bodied nation that a constant tan all year round.

It was when I started taking note of where I was, that I realised I was here. Where I needed to be…

Under the watchful gaze of _O Cristo Redentor,_ situated over the city, I stood before one of the city's archaic landmarks.

The Candelária Church.

I took another photo, knowing Esme would appreciate the early Renaissance work on the exterior.

Considered one of the "_Belle Époque"_ attractions of the city, the fervently described colonial Catedral Candelária was simply beautiful in its entirety. I watched, completely mesmerized by the sculpted, bronze doors. They really gave me a sense that I was about to enter a sacred place…

I just stared up at the imposing landmark stood before me. Apparently it's dedicated to the Blessed Virgin who lights the way to heaven with her candles for those who have trouble finding their way…

I was intrigued by the ornate carvings on the stairs leading to the elevated pulpits. They had lush designs depicting fat cupids frolicking over roses. The oddness of the grisly scenes of suffering amid romantic globe lights and fanciful patterns seemed emblematic. Because the strange mixture of kitsch, passion, morbidity and grandeur that appeared in the Catholic Church was its moniker.

I noticed street kids, sitting on steps and bathing in the charming fountain at the front of the entrance. I took another snap, capturing the scene for my Mom.

In the month I was here, this was the only place I had yet to visit. Like I was avoiding it for reasons I didn't quite understand. A part of me felt ashamed, because despite it's tragic past, a lot of good was being done here. Indeed, in the recent decade, the church had become a gathering point for protesters and parents looking for long-lost children. After the massacre, clothes of victims of the Candelaria shootings hung from a line around the square. I

I took another photo and observed how people left flowers and statues of saints for the lost souls…

And as I watched people remembering the dead and celebrating the festivities, it was then that it sunk in for me what I was planning on doing in that church. That my actions would surely raise awareness…

If I was planning on making a large donation to the Candelaria Church on behalf of Dr Cullen and his wife, I had- for the first time since I left- planned on dipping into my much avoided trust fund to do so. It meant I would have to leave Rio.

I considered the possibility that dad, despite my telling him not to, would make it his mission to locate and bring me home. I knew there was always a possibility he'd be tracking my financial transactions, believing me to be his fiscal responsibility despite me being financially independent for over four years now.

I would have to make this my last night.

Upon recognising this potential problem, I picked my phone out of my pocket and was wrestling with the idea of calling a number I hadn't called in a long time. I knew Jacob would hate me- if, remarkably, he didn't already. He'd hate the idea of me calling this person.

But I knew only one person in this world who could have some of the answers I so desperately sought after.

The guilt was eating away at me as I began punching the numbers in. It was irrational, but it honestly felt like I was somehow _betraying _Jake by doing this.

_You are. _That annoying, gnawing voice in my head retorted.

Not even bothering to ignore myself, I was almost crippled by that very sad fact. In fact, in that moment, my thoughts, like always, were back on Jake. My Jacob. I couldn't even call him that anymore, for he no longer was. Mine, I mean. _I _saw to that…

With my heart physically aching to be in his arms again, it took everything in me to shove him once more in a safe place at the back of my mind. To not think about the one man I left my heart to. To notthink about the possibility of him being here. To not hope that he might be aching for me too. Following me… if that's what he was doing, despite my telling him not to.

Did he not realise it took everything in me to walk away? Did he not realise it took everything out of me to tell him that giving him my heart was the biggest mistake of my life?

I watched as his expression changed. All the blood draining from his face. He was broken, believing it all to be true- that that was _actually_ possible. And that image broke me. It haunted me in my sleep. It haunted me every time I dared to close my eyes.

As if I could ever regret being with Jacob…

But I was convincing enough. Even my family seemed to believe me…

It was why he let me go.

I broke both our hearts that day. I loved him with every fibre of my being and if he were truly here, then he wasn't doing what I had _pleaded _him to do…

I needed him to forget about me. I needed him to refuse the natural order of things. I needed him to stop looking at me like I was everything he lived for. I just needed it all to stop.

And I needed him to live.

So as I stood frozen in place, holding my cell phone like it was about to attack me, I inhaled a lungful before concentrating on what I was about to do. I needed to see some familiar faces. Faces I knew I could unearth answers from. At the back of my mind, I think it was always the reason I flew in my hurry, to South America. Because these questions that I was only now conscious of could only be answered by the oldest of my kind. Because everything I knew about myself seemed like a lie.

And now, I wanted to know what I was. _Who _I was…

Who I could be. I needed faith in myself again.

And at the end of the day, faith is a funny thing. It turns up when you least expect it. It's as if you open your eyes after a long time in the dark, and you realize that the fairy tale you expected, might be slightly different than the one you dreamed of as a kid. And honestly, that terrified me. I didn't know how I felt about that. I always pictured Jacob there. Always there.

_He still could be…_

No. I had to let that side of me that was still holding on to him, die. I had to set him free.

And swallowing hard, I nervously held my phone to my ear and waited as the connection continued to ring. Around me, people were still singing. Dancers were still dancing, and drunks were still peeing.

So the castle… isn't a castle. And, the Prince had to be set free for his own good. To live a better life, to find a _real _Princess…

It's not so important that it's happy ever after… Surely that I'm heading down a stone paved path, should be enough for now, right? I didn't even know what that meant.

"Hello?" A man's voice finally greeted me, stirring my eyes away from a stray dog humping a streetlamp. I was silently thankful for the interruption, but equally bemused at the lack of words coming out of my mouth. What do I say?

"Anyone there?" he continued. It was deep, and heavily accented. So familiar. Quickly, I realised I still hadn't said anything.

* * *

_Review me please. Even if it's to flame._

_I know it's long. I know it's wordy… but I like pacing myself. Sometimes people think this makes it all boring, but personally, I'm a fan. I like detailed fics that take their time and make the reader think._

_FYIs: VO from Grey's Anatomy (Love that show):** Episode Eight: Save Me** May 15, 2005 & **Episode Five: Bring the Pain** October 23, 2005_

_I'd like to thank google and wikipedia in their respective rolls during the tedious yet necessary process of researching._

_Ta for your time and stay tuned for more, kids! X_


	2. Chapter 2 The Phone Call

_Chapter Two: The Phone Call _

_I need to work on chapter lengths. They're so freaking long! :S_

_Soundtrack: The Script- Breakeven _

_Erin McCarley- Pony (Such an immense track, I urge you all to DL)_

* * *

_You hold your head up to the sky_

_You say "What kind of blue are you are you?"_

_Then you ride a pony round and round_

_It's digging a hole right through right through_

_Go on go on go on_

_The stars are watching_

_Just say just say just say_

_What you're feeling_

_You know you know you know_

_You gotta take a bow and do it your way_

_It's okay_

_La da da_

_Da da da_

_Da da da_

_Erin McCarley- Pony_

* * *

There's this feeling that you get when you're expected to talk, but nothing comes out. Whether it's in a room full of people you don't know or like now, on the phone to a person you've known all your life. The same feeling that makes your face burn…

Right now, as I stood fixed in place, my mouth inexplicably dry. What do I say? How much to I tell him?

And as I mulled over it all, it occurred to me: was it okay to even open up yet?

Shutting the world out for two months, being left alone felt good. It felt like I could finally breathe after a long time underwater.

I was completely floored by this apparent inability to speak. What was wrong with me? My mouth had ceased completely shut.

I hadn't really thought this through.

"Whelp?" Said the voice again.

The familiar, teasing made me relax- smile even, before the annoying moniker reminded me why I hated calling up in the first place. "Are you there?" He continued, his confusion more palpable now.

I wanted to say something. _Anything._

And again, for the briefest of moments, I was utterly bemused by how sad this all was. Had it really been that long since I really spoke to anyone I knew?

Sure, there were the odd texts and emails exchanged to my family. Admittedly, it was mainly to let them know I was still alive, because they weren't exactly wordy phone conversations or web chats.

It occurred to me that contacting someone now, someone that knew the real me, that knew my life and everything and everyone in it, only made my situation now more real.

It made my pain more real.

I hadn't quite realised until now, how this life of solitude was affecting me psychologically.

Because for two months, I'd been living in my own little bubble of pity. On my own, and away from everything I knew. Vivi was a girl who knew nothing about me. I could start a fresh. Reinvent myself and be someone new. No one would need to know what I was, _who_ I was.

What I did.

"Whelp, I know you're there. I can hear you breathing. If this is you trying to creep me out…–You forget, I live with Maya."

I couldn't help laughing heartily at that.

"Shut up, Nahuel…"

"Now correct me if I'm wrong on this one…" he laughed, "but isn't it _you _who called _me?"_

I rolled my eyes. I admit, telling him to shut up seemed a little counterproductive on my part.

"Ergo, you _wanted_ to hear my sophisticated, very sexy voice…" he continued.

"Actually-" I began to interrupt, trying to knock _God's gift_ down a few notches.

"On a serious note, though, Nessie…If you're calling to say you're _finally_ in love with me…" he paused, trying to find the right words. "Oh God, this is going to be _awkward."_

"You're an idiot."

"…It's a little too late for that too, honey..." He said, as if oblivious to my words.

"You know what? I can only think of one legit reason why any woman would want you, buddy."

"Oh?"

"Yup. _Morbid curiosity…"_

He paused to laugh heartily. "Feisty," He smirked through the phone, "but I think that's just the jealousy talking."

"Please don't go there."

He chuckled again.

"_Ever_." I added for good measure, as an afterthought.

"It's good to hear from you, Baby Cullen…" he said in all seriousness. " But… I think the connections awful. What's that noise in the background?" there was pause filled with thinking on Nahuel's part. I could practically hear his thinking gears work overtime. "Wait. It kinda sounds like…"

_Like…The freaking carnival is everywhere._ "You said to call you if I was ever on your side of the turf…" I blurted out casually.

He didn't say anything for a few seconds. Seconds that felt like hours to me, because I didn't really know how he'd receive the news of my being here.

"Hmm…Yes, Renesmee…I _did_say that…" he conceded slowly, suspiciously even. I waited patiently for him to actually understand what that meant. "Wait. _What?"_ I smiled. _Bingo._ "You mean… you mean, you're _here_?" he finally blurted out, unable contain the surprise and excitement from his voice. It actually made me feel bad. "You're alone?"

"Yeah."

"No Jacob?"

I winced. "No."

"Wow. How did you manage to score that?"

I sighed. "Long story." One of which I didn't really want to get into in a phone conversation…

He was clearly running now, because with a bizarre whooshing sound that I could only relate to with the excessive assault of wind hitting his headset, he didn't say anything in reply. Maybe he felt awkward.

"I'm staying at the Copacabana Palace…" I informed him, trying to casually change the subject.

"Nice. Didn't take you for the type to wanna live amongst the rich and famous, though Nessie…"

He had a point. And in all honesty, neither did I. Because in truth, I'd be happy squatting in a jungle somewhere. It's not like I needed food. If I was lucky to get three hours of shut eye, a flat surface was handy too.

But upon my arrival in Rio, I carefully considered that despite daddy telling me he'd allow me some time and space away to think, I didn't know how long that understanding would really last.

I didn't like to underestimate my father, but in his last email, I got the impression he was growing impatient with me. I think threatening to freeze my funds and tracking me down might've been why.

Something told me Esme and Mom must've been in the room, because the empty threat was followed with a very brief follow up email consisting an apology.

So now, if I wanted to keep under the radar, and not just any radar: _Edward Cullen's_ _government approved_ _radar_, I had to outsmart a smart ass. I needed to think like him. And from that, I understood that he'd want to get inside my head, and think exactly like me. Where I'd go, where I'd stay…

And then I needed to do the complete opposite to what his only daughter would do.

I ended up thinking like a ditzy heiress and taking refuge in the luxurious Copacabana. It was the last place he would ever consider looking for me.

"No matter, it's a good thing you called me. I'm actually closer than you think." Nahuel's voice drew me back.

Dad had always mentioned how our kind were so easily distracted, but I seriously had no idea...

"Really?" Was all I could muster up, shocked at the coincidence.

"I had some business to attend to near the Iguazu, so I'm already near the border…"

Huh. _Convenient,_I considered.

"Today of all days, I can run faster than I can drive…"

Considering he had a very valid point, I didn't question him further on that. "Actually I'm already running as we speak. I'll be there in less than two hours, most likely..."

"That eager to see me, huh?" I smirked.

"Yeah. The wet dreams just aren't enough these days." The sarcasm got me.

"Too far, Nahuel."

He chuckled a little lightly again. "What can I say? Didn't really like the way our last sparring session left me so hot and flustered. It was very, erm…hard just leaving it like that…"

I didn't miss the innuendo there, but I chose to ignore it. "What? With me beating the crap out of you?"

"Hmm..." he feigned forethought, "Did you ever consider that perhaps I _let_ you win, Carnala?"

I deliberated this. But then I was the one unable to stop laughing. "Sure." I chortled.

Aside from Jake, Nahuel and his sister, Gisele, were the only people I'd met, who could match me in my need to win. "Winning is everything to you, Nahuelito." I continued. "Letting me win is like a fate worse than death for you, dude."

"Whelp," he began, his voice laden with amusement, "it was the only way I could get you to straddle me." He explained slowly, as if explaining it to an infant child.

"Well, that doesn't sound desperate…"

"_Cunning,_ I thought…"

I shook my head, "I don't believe you."

"Believe it, Whelp."

"Stop calling me that!" I snapped, surprised to see the annoyance quickly erupting in me.

He chuckled lightly though. "Why? It's a cute name. And I personally _love_ it, _Whelp."_

Feeling stupid for rolling my eyes unnecessarily, "Well, that's alright then isn't it? As long as _you_ like it." It felt a little juvenile, but Nahuel had a way of really getting under my skin sometimes.

"Well what would you have me call you then? Sexy? Baby? _Man-eater?_ Not in the literal sense, of course, considering it's kind of a sensitive subject for us..." There was a brief pause where he feigned reflection, as if really taking the time to think up a new name for me. "Hey! What about _Veggie-beast_?" he asked with that ever-amused smile present in his voice.

"Ren's just fine, thanks." I said flatly.

"No problem, Whelp."

I hissed, which only seemed to make the situation worse because he actually howled this time. "What was _that_?" he choked, _"A burp?"_

"You're making me regret calling you…" I sang, switching my weight from one foot to the other. There were kids going into the church and kids coming out, and I caught a glimpse of the expansive interior.

"Okay, okay, force of habit." He admitted, repressing his amusement ever still. "Sorry, Sea-monster…" I stifled the urge to hiss this time. "Seriously now," his voice sombre in its exaggerated gravity, "…amigos Senorita? Because I _really_ don't want to have to haul you to my home…" I would've been okay with that, but then he had to go and ruin it by saying this: "I can show you this rotating bed I recently purchased. It's really comfy for those awkward positions… I don't suppose _you'd_know anything about that though…" I could practically hear him biting his lips, expecting my scathing response. He knew this pissed me off to no end and that's precisely _why_ he did so, _so devotedly._

Pursing my lips to consider the meagre explanation he deemed an apology however, "You know," I began, very slowly, very carefully and attempting to keep my voice even, "there are only _so_many times a girl can turn you down without having this need to want to castrate you…" I didn't stop there. "Maybe _then_ you'll get the hint."

It was harsh, but he asked for it.

"Ouch." He feigned hurt. "And my heart bleeds every damn time…" he joked, but I couldn't help noticing a subtle edge to his voice. "But seriously, all jokes aside; you know, Maya will be thrilled to see you…"

"Yeah…I've missed the both of you too…" I said, smiling softly. "_God,_ I can't wait to see some familiar faces."

"I won't take long. And speaking of familiar face, I have to warn you that Aina and Gisele are, erm…_staying_with us also."

Ah. I knew it was going too well. Gisele. I really didn't like the idea of sharing a roof with South America's answer to Sara Palin. She was like the Lex to my Clark. The Joker to my Bruce. The Voldermort to my Harry. She was evil incarnate.

"Yeah, well it shouldn't really be a problem." He continued, slightly more apprehensively now. It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself if anything and I snorted.

"Who are you kidding?"

"Oh come on? Are you telling me you girls can't get along for my sake?"

I smiled wryly. I'd certainly _try_- for his and Maya's sake. I didn't know if beastly Gisele would be up for it though. It wasn't like I was a doormat and if provoked, I Hulked out on everyone.

"How long have you been here anyway?" he asked, drawing me out of my musings.

I froze for a moment. Do I tell him the truth?

Like an idiot, I opted for the truth. And moments later, the conversation involved me holding my phone at arms length, waiting for him to stop his hissy fit.

_"Weeks?_ Why wouldn't you want to contact us bef-"

"I've had my reasons…" I interrupted, shifting my weight from one foot to the other again. My eyes were focused on the kids playing in the fountain- getting drenched and watching the abstract theatrical performances on the streets.

He just laughed, incredulous. After a heated debate and few sour exchanges thrown from both sides: "Where will you be?" he finally asked. "I'll track your scent…"

"Well…I'm actually outside Candelaria right now. I have...erm…something important to do here. But then there's the carnival all over, so it wouldn't be wise to meet in a crowded place…I might just go back to my hotel room," I shrugged.

"Candelaria," he said slowly, "-the _Roman Catholic Church_?"

"S'there another one I don't know about?" I couldn't hide the sarcasm positively dripping from my words.

But to answer his question, "Yes." I said apprehensively.

"Well, aren't you just a surprise waiting in a winding box?"

"Nahuel, we've talked about this: _you can't make sayings up, because it only ever makes sense to you."_

"I just didn't pin you as the religious type."

What did that mean? I opened my mouth to reply, but a raised voice in the crowds now had my attention. "Miss Cullen! Perca Cullen!" I turned to my right to find a girl wading her way through the crowd, waving like an idiot to get me to notice.

"Yeah, I can see you, Vivi!" I hollered away from the phone, a little embarrassed by the eyes following her to me.

In a quieter voice, "Just text me when you're here, okay? I'll be in the general area… " I responded a little irritated, before hanging up on him and slipping my phone back in my pocket. I didn't understand why he thought the idea of me and religion was funny.

Hanging up though, I was sure that would annoy him. The thought alone was enough to make me content for now. I didn't know how annoying he'd be on the way to his, and then of course there was his sister. I honestly didn't know how I was going to hold my tongue with Gisele hovering around me for the next couple of weeks. It would definitely test my strength of my mind, and I took it upon myself not let her get to me.

The waving girl approaching me looked almost comical right now. It wasn't the low-rise jeans and the simple black t-shirt she wore that had me. It was the massive, glittering headpiece resembling a lion brandished on her head. She smiled really cheerily and I cracked up.

"I stole it from one of the performers," she shrugged.

"It's amazing."

"Right? I might give it to the kids. Like a present..."

"Sounds good. But Vivi, I thought I told you to actually _enjoy_ the parade…"

"I am, Miss Cullen." She said, making her way closer to stand beside me. We both just stood there, staring up at the church.

"And I thought I told you to stop calling me that." It was beyond annoying and something told me her and Nahuel would get along brilliantly.

"I know, but it makes me laugh when you give me that pissy look..."

"I don't do 'pissy looks,'" I corrected her.

She laughed at that and the headpiece nearly fell off.

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm going to ignore you now."

Vivi was almost the same height as me, but where I was lithe and comparatively leaner, she was beautiful in her voluptuousness. I always thought my 34Cs were something to be proud of, but then I met Vivi…

Her strong, childbearing hips and tapering waist made her the classic beauty. It was really disgusting. But I suppose I should be happy with what I had. Given my lanky posture and mom's 34Bs, I considered it to be a freaking miracle actually.

"So how'd the reading go, Geek? Learn anything new?"

Less than twenty years ago, very few Brazilians spoke any English. Vivi spoke it rather well, I thought, though it was heavily accented, sounding way too sexy for her own good.

On a reverse note, I learnt upon arriving here that a good command of Portuguese was essential for long-term survival in Rio. I was secretly grateful that Edward had me learn the various languages necessary during our brief travels. Emmett and Jacob thought it was a form of child abuse, but I actually _enjoyed_ it.

Dad created a game out of it. A way to spur me to learn as much as I could. He considered it a gift that I could examine something once, and absorb it so precisely. He had a theory that _that_ itself was my gift all along as none of the others of my kind could do so, so fixedly…

Right now though, I smiled at Vivi as I set my reluctant gaze back on the Cathedral. The most beautiful thing about her by far, was her impeccable timing it seemed. Because I was now mulling over whether it was a good idea for me to do this.

Vivi looked at me expectantly and a crooked grin escaped my lips, before I could even help it. Her features were so striking, like they told a series of love stories, of generations mingling blood and creating the most unique, exotic individual. I thought it was beautiful. Her prominent blue eyes made a stunning contrast against her caramel skin and honey blonde hair. In the four weeks we hung out together, she really knew me too well. It was a shame, with what I had planned, that I'd need to leave straight after.

"You get to find out much about my ancestors?" She continued.

"Yeah. You're the last descendant of an ancient line of Brazilian Royalty. More specifically of _Isabel Cristina Leopoldina Augusta Micaela Gabriela Rafaela Gonzaga de Bragança of Braganza_. No joke, that's her full name. She hales from the House of Orleans."

Who knew I'd end up with a tour guide who was freaking _royalty? _

Vivi just stared at me, her face was indifferent.

Was she in shock? It was shock. Of course it was. It was a lot to take in. "It's a lot to take in," I said out loud to her, "..so I'll let you just sit down and quietly mull over the irony…"

Vivi was skint. Her skanky, jilting ex took off with all her savings.

I waited for the amazing news to sink in some more. It was like that animated movie Claire Young made me watch a lifetime ago. Anastasia?

Vivi burst out into manic laughter, effectively drawing me out of my musings. Her laughter confused me for a second, but then I realised it might just be her coping mechanism. "You're eh-crazy, little Cullen." She said, shaking her head and making her caramel curls sway from side to side.

I pursed my lips. She thought I was joking. "Vivi, I'm telling you the truth here. You're the last in her direct bloodline, Love. After having been overthrown, they exiled to France and resided at the 'Castle d'Eu.' They planned on coming back just after the turn of the century, but she died before she could... It's all _very_sad business actually…"

"Sure, sure." She laughed, shaking her head again.

It reminded me of Jake and I winced.

"Mamma's eh-gunna love to hear that one." She continued, completely oblivious to my emotional breakdown.

Honestly, I stopped listening for a second, because I was _again,_ reminded of what I was missing.

"…And then I decided I'd have sex for money. Times are tough, and I can't do anything else…"

I immediately whipped around to face her, questioning what she just said. "What?" I choked.

"So you're listening?"

I went to say something but thought better of it. I wondered what she thought of me. Did she think I was emotionally crippled? Mentally challenged? A bit of both? Hell, maybe she was right if that was indeed her assessment of me. Today just proved how confused I was.

As if she knew a change in subject was needed: "You wanna go in, Miss Cullen?" her head cocked to the side, towards the building suggestively.

I followed her gaze. Aesthetically, it seemed so inviting.

A juvenile reason kept me frozen in place right now. It came from an irrational fear, a part of my mind that clearly had way too much time on its hands. A part that expected God's wrath to get me. That expected a random bolt of lightening to come out of nowhere and scorch me if I so much as set a foot over the threshold.

It was ridiculous. I shouldn't be fearing for my life over this… Not when I've been doing stupid, reckless things in the recent weeks since I left home. Very stupid things.

We all knew that sacred symbols didabsolutelynothingto destroy our kind. It was all _pure myth_ derived from the inventive minds of humans.

I remember dad had to go out of his way to explain to a curious, worriedseven-year-old- looking Renesmee, that it was all just lies. Fabrications, invented to supply humans with a futile notion that they have 'a fighting chance', was how he worded it.

_"Which, they don't, Renesmee." He'd said softly, brushing away a wayward curl. "They're just stories. It makes them feel better…"_

_I didn't look that convinced and hugged a stuffed wolf Jake had got me tighter. Jacob had gone back to the Rez that week. And it was a long way away from Hanover… _

_Dad sighed after looking at the wolf for a moment. "These symbols won't harm you, Sweetheart...You're worrying needlessly…"_

_I remember wanting to meet his eyes, for him to not lie to me over this. "I won't let anything harm you," he promised tenderly, his own eyes were so soft, matching his promise, but there was a determination there that made me want to believe anything Edward said. "Maybe…" he began a little awkwardly, "Would you like to call Jacob now?" he offered almost…apprehensively. _

"_Maybe later." I said, yanking his hand and taking him to the living room. "Let's jam first, Daddy."_

I remember he offered a lopsided smile at that. His eyes always creased at the sides when he really smiled and apparently mine did the same.

It made me think that superstitions were funny things. "My college campus has a magic statue." I said out loud, trying to desperately to stall until I got my head wrapped round the idea that I wasn't going to fry myself. Of course I wasn't. Not really.

"Oh…kay…" Vivi said slowly, no doubt thinking I had a minor case of Tourettes. "Is that going anywhere, _Miss Cullen?"_

"There's long-standing tradition for students to rub its nose for good luck before an exam." I explained, "This freshman girl living next door to me really believed in the statue's power so much…"

Vivi laughed.

"She insisted on visiting it to rub its nose before every exam."

"What happened to her?"

"She flunked out her sophomore year."

"Studying would've helped."

"Yeah."

The fact was, we all have little superstitious things that we do. If it's not believing in magic statues, it's avoiding church thresholds.

Black cats. Salt over your shoulder. Step on a cracks, and break your mother's back…

I winced thinking how literal that last saying applied to me…

"Vivi, I'll be honest, I've never stepped foot in a church before." I bit my lip. "In my life."

I chanced a peep at her and she nodded, smiling_, understanding_. "You have nothing to worry about, little girl…"

Little girl? "Vivi, I'm practically the same age as you…"

She snorted at that. "You don't fool me."

With her words, I immediately stiffened, my heart literally in my mouth. What? Did she know my secret? How? I was being careful.

She laughed, "Look at you! You're like a deer caught in the headlights right now.."

"The last thing I want to do, is offend God."

"You won't, you Idiot."

"Vivi, do I need to remind you, I'm paying for your words of love?"

"You can do…" she sniggered, before looking around at the gates to her side. "Didn't a bunch of street kids die just outside here, like… years ago?"

I was a little relieved in the change of subject. Indeed, I had read up on that after my week long slumber in my hotel bed. My perfect recall allowed me to derive the facts almost immediately:

"Yeah, Your _Highness_…" I replied, tearing my gaze once more from the church. "In 1993 there was a mass slaying outside the church. A couple of kids were apparently throwing pebbles at police cars. The officers involved allegedly threatened to 'get them back.'"

"If you ask me, the police took it all way too seriously…" Vivi said.

The Candelária massacre was definitely up there as one of the biggest tragedies to ever occur here in Rio. "I read up on it on the plane actually..."

"Of course you did."

I ignored her, "July 23rd, at round-about midnight- when the kids were sleeping on the hard, stone paved steps outside the church- a few cars came to a halt right in front of their sleeping forms." My eyes coasted along the rails where people had layed their flowers. Over a decade had past, but the photos of those lost were still taped against the corroded, black rails. "They were completely helpless. They didn't even see any of it coming…"

"According to witnesses, the policemen approached them with what appeared to be a bowl of soup. But when they pulled guns from the bowl and opened fire, the echoing of shots were the only things that could be heard. _That_and their screaming." I chanced a look up at Vivi, whose face was remarkably blanched. The headdress she wore looked even more ridiculous with the expression on her face. "In a last ditch attempt, the kids tried to cover up, but eight of them were shot dead. Several others were wounded." I was surprised at the deadpan voice I barely recognized as my own. "The church is a makeshift sanctuary for the street kids now."

Vivi blinked back a few tears and I heard her swallow hard.

"…A home to hundreds of kids."

"What is it that you want to do, Nessita?" Vivi tried to ask a little softly, but it came out hoarse.

"I heard the church's personnel provides food, shelter, education and advice to as many of these children as possible. I want to help anyway I can."

She looked so thoughtful, her golden hair awkward in places because of the headdress still. "What are you thinking?" I asked apprehensively.

She looked back up, and in that moment, despite the ridiculous glittery lion-face hovering over her head, she looked so prudent, so serious. "Once in a while," she began slowly, in a tone identical to her expression "…once in a blue moon, people surprise me."

It was my turn to say "Oh…kay."

"Once in a while," she continued, "…people even take my breath away…"

I grinned. "Do I take your breath away, Vivi? I kinda do, don't I?" I said jokingly, not really sure where she was going with this…

The twenty-four year old just smiled at me. "Did they ever catch the men who did it then?"

I didn't know whether the change of subject was deliberate, so I left it and considered her question. "Yeah. The men were tried for the killings, but only two of them were convicted." I answered quietly.

"God. Nessita, how do you know all of this?" She said, her voice, incredulous.

"I told you… I read, Princess." I smiled before pausing to consider the obvious: "Vivi, you're the local here! How is that I know your local history and you don't?"

She shrugged. "Maybe because, I actually have a life?"

"A little defensive are we? And actually, isn't it common knowledge?"

"Shut up." She laughed. "_I _don't eh-spend most of my days buried in eh-books or undergoing sports of the extreme, y'know?" she elaborated. That was certainly true, I conceded. She wasn't crazy like I clearly was…"And this happened thirty years ago! Do I look like Wikipedia, Honey?"

I fought back a small smile then. I didn't make it a point to mention the very blatant fact that it was in her job description to know the history of the town. I think I valued my life too much for that.

* * *

Hit me. Review me. I'll say please. I swear.

Some FYIs:

I took a Grey's Anatomy VO: See, once in a while, once in a blue moon, people will surprise you. And once in a while, people may even take your breath away.

I just liked it!

**Also, episode 21: Superstition** March 19, 2006

"Isabel, Princess Imperial of Brazil"- DOES exist. Crazy, no? I'm definitely buzzed.

Cariocas are Brazillian locals, born and bred. They're known for their generous hospitality and God-awful driving (so I'm told, by an actual Brazilian...) ;)

Whelp- "young mammal of certain carnivorous species, notably canine pup, bear or lion cub… also, human youngster, especially as age group 8-11 in boy scouting." –wiki. Though nessie's now thirteen, Nahuel can't seem to help him self. He thinks it's fitting considering she hangs out with 'dogs' all day. XD

On a serious note: Unfortunately, the massacre outside the church did occur. I used various articles I stumbled across on the net. I apologise to those who are saddened and/or discomforted by it. I do not intend any disrespect to those lost. I'm certainly not making any profit from writing this. I used it as I thought it was crucial for my readers to understand what Renesmee's all about- to understand her character…


	3. Chapter 3 Hello, God? It's me, Renesmee

_Chapter Three: Hello, God? It's me, Renesmee..._

_Boo! _

_Didn't expect this out-of-the-blue update didya?_

_Disclaimer: Please assume from here on out, that I don't own anything. That includes the characters, any external material I'll attempt to reference in my author's notes, and the songs I include in the chaps. Ta very much!_

_Chapter Tunes: _

_Take That- Said It All_

_Kelly Clarkson- Breakaway_

_West of Lincoln- Step Away From The Cliff_

_Ally and AJ- Sticks And Stones_

* * *

Grew up in a small town  
And when the rain would fall down  
I'd just stare out my window  
Dreaming of what could be  
And if I'd end up happy  
I would pray  
Wanted to belong here  
But something felt so wrong here  
So I pray  
I could breakaway

Kelly Clarkson- Breakaway

* * *

A few centuries ago, Benjamin Franklin did this brilliant thing. He shared with the world the secret of his success. "Never leave that 'till tomorrow," he said, "which you can do today."

This was the man who discovered electricity. One would assume more of us would listen to what the guy had to say. But then we're all guilty of it. Procrastinating that is.

If I had to guess why that was, I'd say it had a lot to do with fear. Fear of the unknown.

Thirteen years ago, Sam Uley, leader of his once-then pack, feared the unknown. He feared me enough to want to kill me. His mission meant killing my mother and whoever stood in his way in the process.

My family.

It occurred to me a few weeks ago in Mexico, that had things turned out differently, had gone Sam's way, I would've been responsible for the death of my entire family.

But then I realised that was nothing new. Not when I figured the Volturi showdown twelve years ago, was because of yours truly too.

Sam was my friend for a long time. Likewise, so were his brothers. They babysat me, sometimes they even fed me. Hell, there were the few nights leading up to the Volturi face-off when I fell asleep on them.

You could say,I was raised by wolves in the literal sense. Or at least as much as I was raised by vampires. Funnily enough though, none of them told me the story about wanting to kill me. A tiny detail, they didn't consider important, but procrastination at its finest.

_Not safe. Not right. _Dangerous.

Like a broken record, words from Quil's memory swam in my head. Words I couldn't hold back or ignore as much as I wanted to.

_Unnatural. Monstrous. An abomination. _

These were words said by my friends. Men I grew to think of as family. Over and over again, they rolled in my mind like eerie tumbleweed. They haunted me, taunted me, and refused to let up.

But could I fault them over merely expressing their fears for the unknown? I didn't know.

_Expressing fears is one thing; acting upon mere speculation is another._

Killing my mother to protect a tribe miles apart from a child yet to be born, was completely ridiculous in my mind with their response, a complete exaggeration. In the eyes of Quil, it played out in my head like I was actually _in_ the pack. I felt all the overwhelming hate, the fear and steeling resolve in their intent to kill me.

I could taste the excitement mingled in with their own fears.

So what if I was an unknown? Couldn't they wait to see how I'd turn out? Honestly, in that situation, all I could think of was of pitch-forked masses condemning the falsely accused and demanding death by burning.

But then here's another question: was I really all that innocent to begin with? 'The falsely accused?'

I hurt Mom.

They only ever saw the worst in me, because that's all I ever did:_ the worst. _

How could I blame them for drawing to the worst conclusions when all I ever did was show the worst in me? I couldn't be angry with them for that.

But I was and it was there. All this pain and hurt was something I really couldn't bury away and ignore.

The level of betrayal made me think my whole life was pretty much one massive joke.

I was an abomination to them. A freak show. Going against nature itself. The simple truth was they allowed me live because Jacob had unwittingly imprinted. He stumbled into the room, intent on killing me, and instead, wam-bam, _shazaam_… he became emotionally tied to me for life now.

I wouldn't even know where to begin with how bug-eff crazy that is, because it begs the next question: what would've happened had his eyes somehow missed mine in all the commotion, and there wasn't any imprinting taking place? No 'instant connection.' No 'soul mates.'

No nothing.

I knew exactly what would've happened: a bloody mess. Carnal destruction at its most violent. Mom dead, and my family _destroyed._

So I lived because they let me live.

How could I just overlook that? That by chance, things panned out beautifully.

They let me live, because Jacob was now irreversibly tied to me. They cared about me because Jacob cared about me. They didn't establish any emotional attachment to me for _myself_, but because of Jacob. Their earlier preconceptions of me, their prejudices- all gone. Relinquished.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Jacob was the reason I survived. Ironic, considering he was the last one intent on destroying me. It was a complete transformation. As if he had a lobotomy, the imprinting changed his conception on everything, of _life._ Made him see things through bizarre, rose-tinted glasses.

Because everything was good now. Everything was great…

And all it took was Bella and Edward shacking up for him to get that. Never mind that that was something he was fighting against from the very beginning.

Because he fought for her. He fought so hard for her humanity, that it killed me to think how hard it must've been for him. How alone and broken he was. How could I simply ignore that I was everything he stood against, that made him physically sick to even consider real?

After all, I represented the love he hated and was the seed that took root in the body he loved. Hell, I resembled his once-then adversary and the man he wanted dead. How could I let all that go?

How could I forget that it was all a choice for him? He _chose _to love Bella. He _chose_ to fight for her even after my parents got married.

Brief flashes of Jacob being ripped away from my parent's wedding by Sam and other Quiluete arms, came flooding in. It was another one of Quil's memories, because all the wolves shared the same psych, the same experiences.

The sheer grief, the violent outrage that I felt expelling from him, was something I could never forget. Still so loyal, _still so in love…._

And apparently, that too, along with everything else: all the hate for me and my dad, was gone. How can love so deep, so desperate and devoted, be switched off so abruptly?

It wasn't natural. It wasn't fair. _Imprinting_ wasn't natural and it certainly wasn't fair.

Because of me, it was as if Jacob had a warped sense of what was real. Like everything he knew and believed previously didn't matter anymore. Like he renounced himself from everything in his former life- his responsibilities, because he found what he _thought_ was his life. Because it all depended on me now.

My choices influence him in ways I still struggled to wrap my head around. And it terrified me to learn this. But at the same time, things in my life made so much sense. Like why, when he wasn't with me, I had this gnawing, anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach that I sometimes couldn't ignore. Like I was just as dependent on him as him to me.

It honestly felt like I was breathing under water when I wasn't with him and a part of me wondered if that had anything to do with the imprinting, whether I was in anyway just as predisposed by the ancient magic as Jake was.

I didn't know how to feel about that. I'd like to think I didn't need magic dictating my heart, and that my love for Jacob was because I loved him so irrevocably.

Vivi and I both stood outside the church still. Her with her stolen headdress still on, and me, with my camera clutched to my hand. I took a few snaps while Vivi stood still gawking at the cenotaph for the lost children.

She didn't really know much about me. Sure, over the month, we grew close, but she didn't know the real reason behind my sabbatical. She didn't know I literally fled from home to get away from my perfect life.

To think… and wrap my head around my best friend, the man I loved, keeping something so huge from me my whole life. To chew over how my Dad, the man I practically worshipped and busted my ass through med-school to impress, wanted me replaced with a normal kid who wasn't going to go and kill Mom.

I was here to find myself again. Space to reflect on…things. Things like my own ridiculous involvement in a love-square that I had no prior knowledge of until two months ago.

No, Vivi didn't know much about me at all. For instance, she didn't know my parents were gloriously immortal teenagers, capable of dazzling even the best of us. She didn't know I was incapable of ageing or that on occasion, I drink animal blood.

Vivi didn't know that fate had a sick sense of humour either. She didn't know about Jake. She didn't know how much he wanted to destroy me and how, thanks to some age-old magic curse, he did a complete one-eighty.

She didn't know.

Sometimes though, I got the impression she knew I was running away from _something._ She just didn't know what that was.

If only she knew that any ordinary girl would love the prospect of Jacob Black imprinting on them. Any ordinary girl would savour each moment with him and never let him go.

Every night I wished I was just an ordinary girl. I wished I could just accept things for the way they were again, and not question any of it.

Emily, Kim and Rachel were amongst the happiest, most in-love women I knew.

But my love for Jake wasn't really in question here. Despite everything I knew, that never wavered once. It was everything else I struggled to accept. Like his history with my parents. Like his feelings towards me before he imprinted.

It was messed up. Cruel even. It broke me to realise he had no real choice on the matter.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Aside from everything else held back from me, imprinting was like the cherry on top of the sundae made entirely of crap.

…_Don't know what kind of creature the Cullen's have bred…this thing can't be trusted._

_They fear it, too…_

Ugh.

I quickly opened them back up, desperately wanting Sam's double-timbered voice and the echoing voices of his brothers' shoved out of my head. The words seemed to churn in an endless tide unwilling to let me go and come up for air.

I was conflicted in so many ways. They were my friends, and I grew to love them. I loved them because I considered them as the good guys. Fighting evil. To think that they once considered me as evil, broke me in places I didn't think could break.

_Danger to every human in the area…_

_Destroying the creature is our first priority._

Ugh.

And knowing what I know now, resentment so fierce boiled to the surface every time I thought of the evenings I'd spent with them, thinking they accepted me for who I was and not for being the object of someone's imprinting. Reluctant to admit it, the imprinting was my lifeline. It was what kept me alive and what seemed to make them reluctantly accept me into their exclusive fold.

How the hell was I supposed to feel about that?

The rational part of me understood that they feared me. Feared an unknown creature, with the potential to kill those weaker. I get it. To them, I _was_ a monster. I couldn't refute that, and I didn't want to.

I was killing my own Mother after all…

But there was this unreasonable hate in me, which I could only assume to be directed towards them now and I didn't want it. I didn't want to feel this hurt and angry.

It was as if both hands were tied behind their backs when it came to me. When before, they set their minds on wanting to end me _out of their own choice,_ I grew up to love them and they me. _I _had a choice, however. I just didn't think I could say the same for them.

I cleared my throat, wanting to desperately forget about the life I chose to leave behind for now- of the friends I loved, my extended family. "Er, Vivi, maybe you should sit this one out?"

"No way, Miss Cullen." She chirped from my side, making the thing on her head careen dangerously to one side. The side I stood.

It was a nice distraction because I kept staring at it and it just stared back. I tried not to laugh. "Er…Were you planning on taking that thing off anytime soon then?"

"I thought the kids might like it."

"Don't hide behind the kids..." I teased, knowing full well she was a big kid herself. "But it _is_ a church after all…"

She was reading some of the plaques at the sides now. What Vivi didn't know was that the Candelaria tragedy occurred over sixteen years prior to my birth. She thought I was a twenty-four year old med-school student taking a break from work, which was partially true.

She waved her hand dismissively, "Wa'ever, chic.."

I sniggered. She reminded me so much of Maya that I couldn't help but smile. I needed to feel like I belonged somewhere again, like my life wasn't all a lie. Being amongst my own kind, being with Maya, would definitely make me feel like I was me again. If only for a short time. My home on the other hand, was a mystery to me. I didn't know what was home anymore, because home was always with Jacob. It was like it was all about him. He was my home.

But a part of me recognised that he never chose this. He never chose to be my home. And that realisation alone killed me every time I thought too much on it.

"Are we going in or what?" Vivi asked impatiently, incidentally dragging me out of my own miserable mind.

Without so much as waiting for a reply though, she grabbed my hands and attempted to drag me in there. I didn't but, nor did I flinch away from her. Typically, my abnormally high body-temperature would raise questions, but having long become accustomed to Vivi's touchy-feely ways, I had explained to her that it was Rio's hot, humid climate that made me so much more, er... _warmer_.

My meagre explanation seemed to work. She asked me very little on that.

As she continued in her relatively feeble attempts, the completely juvenile apprehensions of incurring God's wrath seeped right back into my conscious thoughts again.

If the pack once thought I was an abomination, I wondered what God thought…

"Er…Vivi, whatcha doin' there, Bud?" I said, looking up at Rio's pink-toned evening sky.

"You want to see the inside, right?" she ushered dramatically.

_Crap._

Like a rooted anchor, I stood my ground and was completely unfazed by Vivi's attempt at frogmarching me into the church.

It was times like this that took considerable effort _not_to play along with my human façade sometimes. For one thing, despite Vivi using all her strength to haul me inside, I knew full well that I could easily withstand her.

"Jeez, Nessita, what are they feeding you?" She wheezed loudly, pulling back to look at me more dubiously. "Why so scared? Trust me, you're a small pup."

"Pup?"

She ignored me.

"You're not exactly the biggest sinner out there..."

I rolled my eyes and decided to play human a little better, taking a few hesitant steps towards the imposing doors. "It's not really about what I've done so much as…"

_What I am._

But it was yet another thing I had to hide from Vivi, my only friend since I left home. She looked confused, contemplative even, but said nothing.

My legs seemed to be doing all the work because I found myself already in.

And, no lightening bolt. No thunder. No nothing.

Nothing scorched me as I ventured in a little apprehensive. I passed the ancient bronzed doors and took in the bizarre, musky indoor smell.

"See, not so bad, is it?" Vivi said, a little smug.

I could only nod, taking everything and before I could think too much on that, Vivi and I were engulfed by a swarm of excited kids who clutched at our legs. Each vied so desperately for attention that it was hard to keep pace. But once the excitement of strangers wore off, they stood to pick at Vivi's headpiece.

I watched them scarper off and noticed to my immediate left, there was a disproportionately small Christ figure hanging crucified like an afterthought amid the impressively voluptuous splendour of the interior space. To my right, a Virgin figure stared down from her glass case.

She reminded me of a Christmas Rosalie had made us have in New York. Whilst out shopping, we found an antique doll for sale in a beautiful Christmas window shop, complete with blinking lights.

I missed my godmother so much, that I nearly got my cell phone out just to hear the latest from her and Uncle Emmett. Everyone was still back home in Seattle, except them. In his last email, Jasper mentioned briefly of a heated conversation exchanged between Dad and Rose. Apparently things were said and she suddenly felt the immediate need to leave for Alaska that same night to visit her cousins.

That was three weeks ago and they still weren't back apparently. This wasn't the first time the family was scattered all over the world, but something was different. In his email, uncle Jas didn't elaborate on much else and it worried me.

I had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with my leaving, but I honestly couldn't face that just yet. I didn't want them to argue over me- assuming it was about me of course, but I could barely get my head around my own crap. How could someone as messed up as me, try and fix anything else? I just didn't think I had the strength. Despite what they thought, I was doing them all a favour by not being there right now.

Trying to distract myself, I surveyed the rest of the interior, shamelessly in awe of the place. Admittedly, the weirdest effect for me was the image of the Roman martyr St. Manuel, resembling a Greek faun impaled through the temple with an arrow, the bloody end sticking out of his ear. So graphic.

"Exquisite suffering becomes an aesthetic principle._" _I breathed. "Interesting. _Morbid,_ but interesting."

Vivi snorted and shook her head.

As beautiful as the interior was, my attention was now fixed on the children sitting on benches. Some of them were coming and going, wanting to check out the performances going on just outside. The majority were waiting there so patiently, their eyes so eager and hungry made my heart melt. They were waiting for a sister to hand them a piece of buttered bread, some cheese and what appeared to be black beans on a plate.

It was times like this, times when I knew there was worse crap out there in the world to cry about, that I felt guilty. Guilty, because I had so much and I was moaning about it. Running from it.

At times, it really put things into perspective for me. But problems like mine just couldn't be swept under the rug as easily as I'd like.

I sat myself, watching Vivi play with the kids. The church smelled the way only an old structure could: ancient. Built over two centuries ago, Candelaria was the largest church in the city. With its Neo-classical, Italianate style exterior and its gothic themed interior, I considered Esme would've really appreciated it.

Returning home was something I really didn't want to think about right now. It was exhausting simply thinking about the effort of it all. Pretending everything was fine and resuming my old life like nothing had happened…

Like I knew nothing.

As if I could even _try_ and pretend. They'd see straight through me.

My eyes hovered once more towards where most of the kids were. At the very end of the food line sat two kids that particularly caught my attention. A little caramel skinned, black haired girl sat softly, too stirred in whatever she was reading to notice anything else around her. I didn't notice the black eye until she looked up and met my eyes for the briefest of moments, before returning to the pictures in her book.

I just sat there, silently horrified.

Brazil was a place of beauty, of life and culture. Like any country though, it had its problems.

Next to her, sat a small boy. He looked protective of the girl. It was the same protectiveness Nahuel showed towards Maya. Dad towards Alice…

Naturally, I assumed he was the older brother. It was when he looked straight at me, probably asking himself why I was paying the pair so much attention that I noticed he was missing an ear. I sensed he didn't want anyone to approach them, but I couldn't just sit back and not approach them. I saw stuff like this everyday back home. Sick kids, that is. But working at Seattle's Children's Hospital didn't make things like this any less difficult.

But it was the reason why I put myself through years of training in the first place.

Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself kneeling opposite them both. They both looked at me, their big, doe eyes full of fear and apprehension.

That's when it hit me: the pungent smell of blood. The scent of _stale _blood. It was thick, heavy and hard to ignore. It instantly made my insides recoil and my heart jerk in panic. Without as so much as a word, my eyes instinctively darted towards the source.

Underneath the girl's thick band of hair, just above her left ear, I uncovered a massive gash. The wound was fairly new because her hair was still damp with the blood.

I held my breath, aware that it was only an hour ago I forced myself to draw in the scents around me in an effort to locate Jacob's. This was more painful. I couldn't understand who would do this to a little kid…

"Society sees these children as dangerous animals," A Sister explained from behind. "It's why they want to eliminate them."

Wordlessly, I craned my neck to meet the woman. I was horrified to feel the burning sensation at the back of my throat intensifying.

Being half human meant it was usually under control, but right now, it held my divided attention, completely assaulting and consuming my senses.

_Not now. Not now. Please, not now. _

The little girl leant away from her bench, doing nothing to subside my growing thirst.

I refused to move, a statue of silent horror. She on the other hand, was hesitant and unsure of what to make of me, but her curious eyes dropped down to my neck and reached for the locket my mother gave me on my first Christmas.

Her eyes glittered, and she met my eyes once more, smiling timidly. Usually, stuff like this melted my heart, but I was a little preoccupied in trying not to kill her. All I could really do was stare at her wound, trying to get accustomed to it all, but I noticed the motion made her wince. That's exactly when my medical training kicked in and all the thirst that was building up, vanished in an instant.

Relieved, "Hey, pretty girl…you're hurt?" I asked her in Portuguese- an attempt at getting her to trust me enough to treat her.

She bit her lip, nodding nervously. "Can I have a look, please?"

She looked to her brother for consent and the little boy stared at me sceptically, before reluctantly conceding.

I missed this. I missed paediatric surgery. Having patience. Feeling like I was making a difference.

It was obvious she'd been attacked. The superficial lacerations on her scalp ran down her hair line and down her overheated neck. "Who did this to you?" I asked softly, trying to blanket the shock in my voice. Given how deep the cuts were, she was most probably hit by something hard and sharp- a glass bottle.

She was reluctant to talk and only shrugged. I knew I wouldn't get anything out of her without her having to relive the trauma of it all, and did something I hadn't done since what I did to Quil.

Over the years, the original abilities I had evolved and grew alongside my physical growth. The reversal of Edward's gift meant I was always an open book. I could open my mind and share my thoughts and feelings with whomever I wanted.

_That,_ coupled with the reversal of my mother's- hacking into anyone's mind, including those protected, meant I could combine the two and learn to do whatever I wanted.

I looked to be physically five when I realised something was different. That the two original gifts that initially defined me were growing and evolving _with_ me.

And it terrified me.

I found that instead of just sharing myself to people- the reverse of dad, I could get people to share with me. I could leave or take information- memories, emotions…anything. I learnt things and absorbed things so easily, that I found myself mirroring people- even those with gifts of their own. I mirrored what they could do, through learning how they worked.

The first person whose mind I accidentally stumbled into was the busiest most overwhelming mind I could possibly begin with. It was none other than Dad's. The sudden assault of voices plagued my mind. It was crippling to hear such a bizarre assortment of quiet whispers… loud, screaming, vile thoughts… streams of words that made absolutely no sense. It was so distracting and I heard and felt it all.

All the hurt, anger, betrayal, love, lust- everything within a ten mile radius, Dad picked up on.

I remember feeling like I was drowning in it and Dad wasn't sure what was going on with me.

"Carlisle!" I heard him scream in a panic. I remember feeling like I was having an out of body experience, the whole world was running in terrifying slow-mo and familiar voices seemed foreign and distorted. "_Carlisle!_ There's something wrong with Nessie!"

I remember blurring shadows flittered immediately into the living room before Edward's words barely left his lips.

A deluge of voices flooded in and I couldn't help but wince and shrink further into Dad. "What's going on?" "What is it? Renesmee?" "What's happened?"

"Mommy..." I mewled pathetically into Dad's chest.

"I'm here, baby." I heard a panicked voice croon. Someone stroked the hair out of my face softly. "God, her nose is bleeding! Edward, what happened?"

"I- I don't know." I did't think I ever heard Edward sound so in-shock as he did that day. "She took my hand and wanted to read my palm, and… I don't know. Her expression completely changed- became expressionless." He was so confused that he had to peer down and check I was still in his arms. The grief and confusion in his eyes made me want to pat his cheek and play with his hair, but I remember at the time, I was just too exhausted and on the brink of passing out to do act upon it.

I managed a drowsy, 'Mmm.. Daaah..." which only made him suck in some air.

"Her eyes glazed over, and her breathing became shallow, Carlisle. I didn't know what to think."

"It's a good thing you reacted so promptly." Granddad replied reassuringly.

"Carlisle, did_ I _do this to her?"

"Edward, you can't think like that. Whatever this is, it was an accident." Mom said. I felt her stroke my cheek, the ice cool touch was so soothing.

"She likes that." Dad said in a dead-pan voice I barely recognised. "Here," he offered, handing me to her. "I think it's best I keep away from her."

"Edward, Bella's right. There's nothing you could have done to prevent this."

"Maybe so, but I really don't want to take that chance with her again."

"A little dramatic don't you think?" Rosalie piped up. My dad shot her a death-glare. "All I'm saying is we don't know what's caused this. For all we know, it could be her powers."

The room fell silent and Dad's face blanched into a statue of indifference.

"She has point, Dude..." Uncle Emmett mused after a few tension-filled moments.

"Carlisle?" Esme turned to her husband for some answers.

"Well, medically speaking, I won't know until I've drawn out a small sample of blood and conducted some tests." Granddad said slowly. "Rule the obvious out."

Mom nodded her consent.

"The others would've told us what to expect if this was a hybrid thing…" Jasper added.

I felt Mom suck in some air this time.

"I know." Granddad replied. "Which is why-"

"Eleazar?" Dad interrupted, snapping out of his own head after picking up Granddad's suggestion before he said them out loud. "There's something else." Dad added, hesitantly "I… felt her in my head, Carlisle." He said the words slowly, as if not quite believing it himself.

"In your head?"

"I mean I felt her _in_ my mind. Picking up everything I was. I heard echoes…"

I don't remember much after that. Things went fuzzy and I think I passed out.

Naturally, the men in my family all had theories. Dad thought I was just naturally perceptive like him, but it somehow manifested differently. I got the impression the thought terrified him as much as it did my mom who-at the time- had me in her arms as we slouched on the sofa for a whole hour. I remember he was trying to hide the panic in his voice when he called Eleazar, punching in the numbers and flashing us both brief, reassuring smiles.

After I recovered from my unexpected nap, I wasn't worried. Just surprised at the time. I wasn't sure what was happening to me, but I remember feeling it wasn't anything bad. My uncles entertained me though, with their guesswork while my parents were having some kind of silent parental breakdown.

"Or maybe- just maybe- you're weirder than we thought." Emmett said, after his seventh guess. Rose slapped him round the head and told me at the time, to ignore him from now on.

"Special, not weird." Jasper chimed in reassuringly, "He meant you're special."

In fact, Jasper made one sensible suggestion out of five, and posited that maybe I was an empath who understood people "on an emotional and psychological level to the point where she emulates them subconsciously. Similar to how men suffer sympathy pains during pregnancy…"

That was then, and thirteen years later, I found myself in a church in South America, using the abilities I grew to manipulate on a small child. I took her comparatively small hand into mine and concentrated on breaking her mental barrier. It was all there and leafing through it all was relatively simple enough.

I found myself in an alley way with my brother, bare foot and tired. The music and the screaming crowds could be heard somewhere in the background.

"You think you can walk it to the other side of town with me?" My brother asked.

I nodded, trying to hide my tiredness. Before he could respond however, his attention was on the drunken men stumbling their way. "Bastard kids everywhere!" One of them sneered, kicking a glass bottle into their face. The others howled in unison and it made my skin crawl. I got a good look at the faces before the panic poured into me like a flood, spearing me to the ground.

"Run." My brother ordered. "Don't look back. Just keep going."

"No." I protested turning to look at him. "I don't want to leave you."

"Run, Marina. Run as fast as you can."

Before I could take a step back and run, something hard speared-headed into the side of my head, flinging my tiny form to the ground.

Everything went dark after that and I found myself outside the church.

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Confused? Any questions? Please ask._

_I wanted to say my thank yous to those following this story and leaving messages to continue with it. Your words of encouragement mean the world to me. Seriously, thank you. _

_Also, a sincere apology for taking a year to update? I have every intention of finishing these bad boys, but alas, university assignments come first, loves! ;)_

_That said however, with the help of my long-suffering beta, I'm currently in the process of revamping these existing chapters, because I realise they're a bit shit. I'm sorry for the inconvenience to those following the story. (I just feel much better about my work this way…)_

_Once I'm done with those (nearly there,) we'll see! Because its one thing having most of it already typed out (like I said, my lappys congested with fanfic project crap), but you have to understand it's not structured…just one long-ass document I have to keep referring back to and segment._

_X_

_Some FYIs:_

_Nessie's religious beliefs: I'm putting a disclaimer on that beast. (Please assume the same for her opinions on all previous chapters too.)_

_Grey's Anatomy VO used and 'tweaked': Episode Six: If Tomorrow Never Comes; May 1, 2005_

_Please, take the time and leave feedback if you can. I'd much appreciate it. :)_


	4. Chapter 4 Conference Calls

_Chapter four-Conferencing calls_

_Well, I'm snowed in._

_But...let me just say Merry Christmas, guys! (For next week) A Belated Happy Hanukkah to those who celebrated it a couple weeks back too... Hope you all have a brilliant holiday! Stay safe. _

_There are momentary backflashes in this epic beast, so lemme know what y'all think._

_Chap tunes:_

_Metric: Help I'm Alive._

_Chris Daughtry: Home_

_Samantha Stollenwerck: Carefree (This was a tune I had on repeat as I envisioned Nessie having that conference call while driving.)_

_Coldplay: Viva la Vida (When she's running around the house getting stuff)_

_Jadon Lavik: Let It Go ( 3 What can I say? I'm into chick flics too. ;))_

_JLS: One Shot (Glossy magazines, glossy magazines! Haha. I'm gonna shup now…)_

_Disclaimers: I have absolutely no affiliations with car brands, Karen Millen or LV. When I mentioned Nessie's red speedster, her work attire and travel bag- they were just choices catered for my characterization of her. Please assume I don't own them, like I don't own the characters or chap songs. :)_

_(If you're wondering, I first saw the Speedster on Private Practise and just thought it looked cool.)_

* * *

I've got my feet on the ground my head in the clouds  
I follow my heart it's in the right place  
I've got my soul on my sleeve 100% garunteed  
I ain't got nothing on me but my carefree

Samantha Stollenwerck- Carefree

* * *

To be a good surgeon, I was told you had to think like a surgeon. This meant emotions were messy. It meant I had to tuck them neatly away in order to step into a clean, sterile room where the procedure was simple.

Cut, suture, and close.

It was simple. It was clean.

Little into three months of med school did I discover life was never really that simple. It was only ever an ideal. So as I sat kneeled in front of the two adorable looking kids, I secretly wondered if Edward would think it was irresponsible for me to consider adoption…

With my lifestyle, who was I kidding? Of course it would be.

But in the back of my mind, I kept thinking Cullen money had to be good for something other than luxury living. I remember Edward telling me our family did our part, but to avoid attention things had to be done mostly in moderation.

Something else he said a while back came bubbling to the surface then, and as much as I was reluctant to admit it, I wanted my father here right now. I wanted him to help me help them. _'Sweetheart as much as we want to, it's not in our reach to save everyone. Offer enough to help but remember to never interfere…'_

Enough to help, but to not interfere.

As I looked at the oblivious kids his words rolled around in my head like water circling a drain. Moderation didn't seem fair.

Screw moderation. Screw remaining unobtrusive. Who was I to deny them any help if I had the means to do so already?

While I'll admit, I had a major chip on my shoulder when it came to this issue, being the only child to virtually four sets of parents meant I wasn't exactly missing out on anything material. I was showered by the best from the best. What was baffling was how empty it made me feel.

"These kids' inborn image of themselves is one of slaves," The sister explained, drawing me back to the present. "I teach them that they came from Africa, a land where their ancestors were Kings and Queens." The woman looked frankly at me then, and perhaps it was random paranoia, but I could've sworn this next bit was aimed directly at me: "Because when a man has no pride in his ancestors, he has nothing."

I stared into space since her words elicited something strange in me.

Shame? I didn't think that was how I'd accurately describe my feelings towards Edward right now. I still loved my father so much, but I couldn't quite explain why I couldn't picture us ever getting back to the relationship we had when I was young- when I was still clueless to all the facts.

I swallowed hard and stared back into space for a brief second. It only served to amplify how relatively blessed my life was in comparison. The strained relationship we now had seemed irreparable, and I didn't know how to feel about that or what to do…

"Brazil isn't all bad, Nessita," Vivi said softly. "I bet you haven't heard of that rich lady who helps out."

Yvonne Bezerra di Mello, a 62-year-old millionaire's-wife, turned angel-of-mercy. "Yeah, I've heard of her," I shrugged.

She looked impressed.

"She put away her jewels, gave up her coffee mornings and dedicated most of her days to helping street kids survive. Admirable work."

"I've seen her a few times actually," I admitted.

"What?" she scoffed. "How? I'm always at your place."

While this was certainly true, what Vivi didn't know was that I was an insomniac.

"Every weekday morning her chauffeur takes her to a shanty settlement known as Coqueirinho. On the way, she stops to pick up coffee, cocoa, bread, butter- you name it, she has it."

She blinked. "How do you-?"

"I don't sleep." I interrupted her. Or rather _can't._

She studied me quizzically. At five in the morning you'd find me sprinting the almost-deserted beaches of Cobacabana and Impanema. I'd usually find tourists from the previous night's clubbing struggling to get back to their hotel rooms, which I'll admit, was something that was entertaining to watch. Out of boredom sometimes though, I decided to change my usual route and ran the circumference of Sugar Loaf twice. Not stopping. Barely breathing. Just running…

I remember a random tourist roused me awake after I passed out, finally collapsed out of exhaustion. Not my finest hour. "I read about this chick in the local newspaper and had to check it out for myself," I lied.

"Effectively, becoming a stalker?"

"What can I say?" I shrugged in indifference. After hearing stories of how my parents got together, I wasn't about to share with her how stalking sort of ran in the family…

Before making an official donation and practically draining any Cullen resources I had, a random cleric offered us the opportunity to sit at confession. Since I wasn't Catholic, I wasn't sure what to say. Vivi told me it would be another experience- 'an adventure,' I could right in my 'geeky travel diary.' I attempted to keep my face unreadable, attempting to veil the feeling of complete betrayal while secretly wondering how the hell she found out about it.

The latter of the evening was spent trying pointlessly to make our way back to my hotel room. I was apparently going to find Nahuel hovering:

_I'll let you know when I'm hovering outside your room. _

I shook my head and decided to reply back:

_Because that's not creepy. :S_

Within seconds my phone vibrated again:

_Hm. I thought girls liked it when a guy hovers outside their room, watching them sleep? It's romantic._

After reading his text and laughing to myself, it dawned on me once again that I hadn't seen anyone from my former life in over two months. Did Nahuel know anything? And if he did in fact know about why I'd left, _how much did he know?_ Had my family gotten to him?

It was paranoia at it's finest- one last pointless stab at self-preservation.

The next question might seem a little on the weird side, but I had to consider did I look healthy enough?

Excluding the feel of my clothes now being a little on the baggy side- an after-effect of my long morning runs, I didn't think I looked different in any significant way. Then again, and without really wanting to admit why, I'd avoided any reflective surfaces since I left Forks.

Looking at myself reminded me of what I was. _Who I was._

A girl who ended her mom's humanity.

One who took a headstrong man's freewill.

A girl who only served as a reminder to her father of what he was. _And what he didn't want to be… _So much so in fact, that he was desperately willing for another man to impregnate his wife with his 'normal' semen.

I groaned, wincing at my own debauched thought.

I had to stop this.

I wanted to quickly distract myself again. The last time I looked at myself in the mirror was the day I'd left the Cullen mansion in Forks. With my long curls in random disarray, I remember my sallow skin looked unhealthy… dead, despite the underlying glow induced by the bathroom lights. My hollow eyes were rimmed with a vampish mauve colour I only recognized as a result of sleep deprivation.

I recall thinking I'd never looked more like a vampire than that day.

So naturally, I wondered what I must look like now. My manic hair had fallen just bellow my waist- the longest it's ever been. I was sure I'd lost some weight, without intentionally meaning to and could, on occasion, feel my hipbones protruding out.

I didn't like that.

Once I arrived in Rio I told myself I wouldn't go looking for anyone. I made a concerted effort to not go and find Zafrina and her Amazonian coven, despite feeling a desperate pull to go search them out.

Because I knew this was classic me- trying to find familiar things and to surround myself with people I loved. Bella once said it was simply because I was the complete opposite of her, a 'people person' and loved to interact socially with the world. I wasn't entirely sure about that, but during my power-lapse episode with Edward as a child, the very same one that induces a mass panic in my family, Eleazar confirmed it.

'It appears the child is a classic extrovert,' he had said after finally arriving at our Hanoverian home upon my father's request. He looked down at me apprehensively.

I always sensed the centuries old vampire was never fully comfortable around me. I remember it silently irked my mother who at the time tightened her grip around me. In my own naïve effort to reassure him however, I flashed Eleazar a very deliberate toothy grin back up. It only served to somehow make things worse and he perceptively stepped back.

That only provoked Emmett to very deliberately sit next to my mother and I on the sofa and high-five me. 'Still got it, Champ,' he winked, lovingly. I high-fived my uncle back, for two reasons, I remember. First, he'd always said 'leaving him hanging' was 'not cool,' The second reason was perhaps the most amusing, reflecting back on it: I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but I didn't want him to know that.

'Yes,' the Vampire said slowly, refusing to take his wary eyes off me still. 'In the sense that she appears to be an individual who is energized by surrounding herself around others.'

Now though, having all grown up, I knew if I were to go out of my way to look for anyone, my appearance would raise concerns and my old friend would undoubtedly ask questions- she would want to know why I was the way I was.

And I wasn't sure what to say to her. I loved Zafrina, but I didn't need that and I didn't need her to worry about me. I didn't need her to call my parents on the sly, while I slept…

I didn't need word to get back home that I was fighting my own twisted depression.

Straight away, I found myself thinking about Jacob again. I understood how imprinting worked now, but it didn't stop me from struggling to wrap my head around it. If I suffered, the emotional draw meant he would too- apparently a result of his own empathy for me.

I sighed, trying to suppress the unbearable yearning I felt every time I thought of him. All I wanted to do was fly back and guarantee he was okay. What prevented me was in knowing I would ultimately be messing with his head and only serving my own interests.

While I thought I understood imprinting enough, I was unsure if the distance separating us played any significant affect in preventing him from unintentionally mirroring my emotional state now.

Like what he didn't see, wasn't going to hurt him. But I wasn't counting on it.

Of course he was in pain.

My departure alone must be killing him, and for him to realise I was still suffering…

I didn't know what the ramifications of that would be.

I dismissed the possibility that he had come for me earlier so easily, because I thought it was my own selfish need to see him seeping through into my conscious thoughts, taking a visible form.

Maybe it was. I didn't trust myself anymore.

All I know is being apart from him was something the imprinting didn't like, and on more occasions than I feel like remembering, saying my goodbyes to Jacob Black was never easy. As a small child, I remember it always brought with it a knot that would painfully twist inside.

But when we were reunited, the inexplicable relief that would wash over me absolved the pain like massive waves hitting the beaches in La Push…

I found myself holding onto that feeling. The last time I felt that wave of overwhelming relief was four months ago, when I finally arrived back home to Forks after months of commuting between Seattle and Hanover. The year was certainly busy, and such circumstances meant I hadn't seen my family in months.

I was sure it was affecting my mother more than she let on, but it killed me that I couldn't wish her a happy 32nd birthday in person. To my family's objections, missing my mother's birthday so close to my own, meant I even managed to somehow spend my thirteenth birthday at a surgical conference in Hanover.

That was depressing.

So when I got the call from Alice over four months ago, saying she'd like to shock my mother with a second surprise wedding- with myself as 'guest of honour,' claiming it'd make Bella's year, I managed to weasel my way out of work to happily oblige my aunt.

"Here's the plan," Alice began one early mid-September morning as I made my way back home from Sea-tac. As it was a journey straight from my flight from Hanover, to say I was a little jetlagged was an understatement, however I laughed nonetheless at her enthusiasm, which held an endearing mix of ruthlessness and excitement on the phone. "I've set the date: 24th September."

I frowned at the car in front of me and stopped my own red Speedster at the lights. 'That's a week away?" I protested, "Can you get things done in a week? Flowers, invites, food? What am I wearing?"

My bluetooth earpiece laughed in response and I had to remind myself who I was talking to here.

"All sorted, thanks very much," she sang. "Just ensure your pretty little butt is in Forks today."

'I'm packing as we speak,' I lied, motioning the indicator and steering the wheel to veer to the left. I couldn't even appreciate the Seattle skyline.

Alice laughed a tinkering peal and I had to smile. "Yeah, let's not kid ourselves." She began all too knowingly, "I can practically hear the wind hitting against your headset and… _traffic._ You have your sunroof down? Unusual for this time of year…"

True I had my Speedster's roof down, but surprisingly the weather wasn't bad and the traffic wasn't ridiculous. "It's not raining." I explained. "And I'm actually five minutes from my place."

I could hear Rosalie in the background reproaching me for lagging behind schedule. 'Tell her she needs to stay away from her parents for the time being."

I choked back a laugh. "Er, I can hear you loud and clear, Aunt Rose. We're on speaker."

"Oh." She replied. "Well we've all been careful to not think things around Edward-"

"Hm." I pursed my lips, checking my mirrors. "That could be because _they're still in Alaska, Rosie._ They have been for three weeks now."

To get Mom out of the funk she was feeling with me living a newly appointed surgeon's life, Edward decided to spoil her by whisking her away to where his former admirer resides.

"Well, I'm talking about you being generally bad at keeping secrets here, darling, so-"

I laughed. "Well _excuse me_ for having a beating heart and the human flaws that seem to accompany it."

My godmother sniggered. 'They're coming back on the 2oth, Nessie," she said in all seriousness, "so we really need you to not think anything in front of Edward."

"No problem. They don't need to know I'm back in Forks. Simple."

"Genius!" Alice exclaimed. I could hear Esme complain in the background, however. "We can lie and divert our thoughts. She _can't," _Alice reminded her.

"Thanks for continually bringing that up."

"But where will you live?' Rose mused to herself, ignoring my jibe, and Alice and Esme's little side conversation. 'Charlie's house will be out of the question…"

"Motel?" I suggested.

"No niece of mine is going to-"

"How about Jacob's?" I interrupted quickly, pulling into my own drive way.

I heard Rose fall short of saying anything and it threw me for a loop since it was _a first. _

But then as quickly as she was stumped, she erupted with: "No niece of mine is going to live incognito with _a mutt_, especially that no-good, good for nothing, smelly, disgusting-'

"Then it's settled!" I grinned deliberately, closing my car door before skipping up the steps to my house. "I just need to call him up and confirm it's all good."

If dissing Jacob Black was an Olympic sport, I was convinced my aunt would win gold every time. Very rarely did she ever get sidetracked, but I decided to interrupt her before she succumbed to her favourite pass time and inevitably lead the conversation to veer into an uncomfortable 'why are you friends with him again?' chats.

I flung my door open to become thoroughly ensconced in my own little home. It was a gift from my family and a way of retaining what little privacy I had from supernatural ears and minds. While Seattle was now our home and where the Cullen's were based, they had gifted me something I would never forget, and would always be grateful for.

They gave freedom. Space to grow. To understand myself without feeling embarrassed or guarded about the inevitable thoughts and feelings I was having.

And while they lived less than a mile away, I was still aware it must've been the most difficult thing for my parents to ever concede to. Having my own separate life gave me some semblance of normalcy and much appreciated privacy. I didn't think they fully recognized just how much they gave me in that concession, and I'd always love them for that.

On the phone, I could hear my aunt expel an exasperated sigh- still protesting, but I chose to just ignore it and let her vent.

A year ago, Jacob decided to purchase his own apartment just outside the Quiluete reservation. It was a quaint little home near the sea and I loved it. He and Embry were currently living together, so it was quite the cool little bachelor pad they had going. I was sure they- _Jacob and Embry,_ had a sofa I could crash on for a few nights, so I honestly didn't see the problem. "I've already booked my flight to Port Angeles today, so I'm just getting a few things before I head out. It'll take me less than two hours…" I said. "Give or take another three hours." I added belatedly and then laughed.

She didn't find that funny.

"I'll ask Emmett or Jasper if they can come pick you up since Alice and I have-"

"Don't worry about that." I interrupted my aunt, "I don't want you guys putting yourselves out. I'll just get a taxi or… I'm sure Jake-"

"I'm calling Emmett and conferencing him through!" Rose sang happily, effectively drowning out my suggestion to have Jacob come pick me up.

I stifled an eye roll.

While she was doing that, I ran upstairs and began flitting around my already-chaotic room, flinging anything I thought I needed for my stay in Forks into a Keepall 55 travel bag- a gift I received one Christmas from Esme. "Conferencing, huh?" I asked, quickly rummaging through my underwear drawer. "You know…' I said slowly, my eyes briefly staring into space as realization of my missing uncles finally dawned on me. 'Now that I think about it, the house sounds a little quiet. _Suspiciously quiet._ Where are the gruesome twosome anyway?"

"Out." Rosalie quipped, keeping it deliberately brief. Alice's suppressed tinkering could be heard somewhere in the background and it only seemed to serve as justification for my own cocking of a brow in scepticism.

It occurred to me that while they were planning a surprise family reunion for my parents, they were ultimately making up for lost time here. And lost time included my thirteenth birthday- a milestone for me entering what should've been human adolescence.

I sighed, understanding that this needed to be done. It irked them that circumstances prevented any of them from seeing me, so I wasn't going to take whatever they had planned away from them. I was always given so much in my life, and sometimes it overwhelmed me. When I was old enough to appreciate things, it occurred to me that this was one of the only _real_ things I could truly give back in return: an experience for two childless couples to enjoy showering a kid they watched grow up.

And I considered them just that: my family- the people who shaped me.

I loved them fiercely and I'd do anything for them. If it meant playing Barbie for hours, which, I'll admit, I enjoyed since Alice's face always lit up with an almost childlike fervour… Or letting them go crazy over my birthday, inevitably feeling their impatient, excited eyes on me as I opened presents, then I'd do it.

"Oh.._kay_." I began slowly, disentangling my fingers from random bra straps and silently mulling over what they might have shoved up their sleeves.

I learned a long time ago not to even bother trying to get anything out of them. They worked like some twisted mafia- getting anything out of one was as painful as pulling teeth. "Do I even want to ask?" I added apprehensively.

"Yo, hit me." Emmett's voice suddenly boomed over the phone, effectively interrupting my aunt's attempt to respond convincingly.

I snorted, diving into my en suite now, grabbing any necessary toiletries I needed. It was a shame really, since I wanted to know what lie she'd have had to concoct to prevent me from finding out what belated birthday episode they had planned for me.

"We got you on speaker, Em." Alice chirped from somewhere in the sidelines, clearly an obvious heads-up for him to not give his location or his current activities away.

"Seen." He began. "Just got off the phone with Eagle and Blue-tit. Love-birds are _completely clueless," _he said, singing the last part.

"What?" Rosalie asked, completely unimpressed but at the same time, verbally expressing the same confusion and amusement we all felt. Was he referring to my parents?

"Code names Jazz and I made up." He explained. "I'd share the rest, but I'm sensing some judgement."

I chuckled while simultaneously trying to zip my bag up.

"Bee-tee-dub, they kept asking about the kid. She really needs to call them once in a while. Let them know she's still _alive…"_

"I do! Every other night." I defended, still struggling with the bag. "Oh, and that code name for my mom? _So_ inappropriate, I wouldn't know where to begin…"

"I really don't know what you mean, Ness. _It's a bird."_

I pointlessly stifled an eye roll. Rosalie decided to steer the conversation away from Emmett's digressing while I began running around the house, checking if everything was locked up since my housemate, Izzy wasn't going to be home for a few weeks.

The 'conference call' that mainly consisted of bickering between and amongst themselves, lasted well up until I had to board the small plane and hand over my headset to security. I happily obliged, "I'll see you guys in four hours." Then I cut them off.

Of course, I was secretly anticipating our reunion, but I got a strange kick out of annoying them just as much.

I realized as I boarded the plane, they hadn't even given me the opportunity to call Jacob. I figured however, that he'd know I was arriving from my family, or at least if they were lame enough_ not _to've told him, he would get a surprise either way. I was practically bursting inside with excitement at the prospect of seeing everyone again, and while I didn't want to highlight why, I was practically itching to see Jake more. That need alone seemed to override everything else, but I didn't seem to care. Since I left my conference in Hanover, I kept counting down the minutes, the seconds, until I saw him again. Until I could savour the brief hug he'd give me- the only window of opportunity wherein I could breathe him in and no one needed to know any better. The one moment I could be in his arms and he wouldn't need to know I loved every second our bodies being so briefly pressed against each other.

It was sick. It was sad.

But it was all I had.

Three months ago, I was ignorant of imprinting and what I meant to him. Three months ago, when I arrived back home after what felt like years, Jake and I were best friends.

But so much can change in a day, so three months is more or less irrelevant.

The closest airport offering commercial service to Forks was in Victoria, British Columbia. It was simply a small landing space accessible only via ferry from Port Angeles. Sensing I wouldn't be given the liberty for a few days amid all the catching up, I plugged my ears with my headphones and managed to get a brief nap in during the four-hour flight.

I dreamt about him. I dreamt we were in his apartment, goofing around and being idiots. I dreamt we were in Third Beach, climbing up a massive tree trunk that had been washed up onto the shore during the previous night's storm. I dreamt us making a bonfire inside it, laughing and enjoying each other's company well up until sunrise…

Time felt so different when I was with Jacob. It didn't just pass, it practically flew.

I awoke to the embarrassing, yet unignorable feeling of needing to see him immediately. It was unnerving to realise a growing impatience in me that only served to intensify as the distance between us slowly elapsed.

It was ridiculous. _I_ was ridiculous.

When the only flight attendant on board the small plane wasn't looking, I turned my phone back on. Aside from the assorted messages alternating between complaints and jokes from my family for hanging up on them, I was elated to realise there were three from Jake.

_-Were you going to tell me any time soon that you were coming back? (NB: no kisses 'x' included since I'm not really impressed..)_

I laughed to myself, effectively attracting the attention of a small girl sitting in front of me. She just stared and laughed along with me.

So much for surprising him…

The second included a very different message, but only served to highlight how adorable he was:

_-Okay, so I can't stop smiling like an idiot. Your fault. x. _

I could imagine him smiling impishly while typing that and I couldn't stop grinning like an idiot myself.

The third was strange:

_-I just got off the phone with Alice. She tells me you're planning on staying around mine? (Embry is loving the idea btw) But sorry- can't. I need at least a weeks notice before playing host. x_

I cocked a brow at that one and decided to text him back with a snarkier reply:

_Alrighty. Never mind. I'm sure there's a pervy motel owner who'll be able to take little old me in. Ttyl. X_

Within seconds, I got a reply:

_:| You need to work on your material. That's not even funny. And FYI- changed my covers. No need to find creepy motel guys! Xxx!_

The remainder of the journey consisted of us continually exchanging texts back and forth- with him repeatedly teasing me and me intensifying my sarcasm tenfold. But the all too familiar exchange only served to make me want to see him first before my family.

It made me wonder if he'd be there with Emmett as he waited to pick me up. I highly doubted it, since he had a life outside me and didn't have any prior knowledge of my arrival in the first place. Yet despite knowing all this, a small part of me couldn't stop hoping I wouldn't need to wait to see him.

Clearly however, this long overdue reunion was a big deal to them all, since I had no idea what was awaiting me when the plane finally hit the tarmac and I was officially home.

Home.

After heading out of the plane, I decided to fish out my phone before passing the security checkpoint. I wanted to give Emmett a quick call, letting him know the flight was on time and I didn't need to collect any luggage.

With every step I took, the excitement seemed to only build up and an overwhelming sense of nostalgia that was only ever induced when I returned home practically assaulted me. As I checked out passing the metal detectors, my eyes began to instinctively comb through amid the small crowd in search of familiar faces. I realised I didn't need to walk far past security, since I realised _both _my uncles stood just outside the small terminal, goofing about.

Emmett fished out his phone out of his pocket and began reading my name on his screen. I noticed him carrying a cardboard cut-out with 'lucky number 13' written in black felt and choked back a laugh, incredibly touched that they were both here to welcome me back.

Sensing my closeness, both brothers turned simultaneously to find me just standing there, flashing them both a goofy grin. I must've looked like an idiot because they both lit up in amusement before matching their own expressions to my own dorky grin. "You're here!" I managed, my voice thick with emotions I wasn't really expecting. It was embarrassing to say the least.

Without so much as looking away though, I ended the now-unnecessary call and began to run towards them in my excitement. I flung myself first on an unprepared Jasper- who I hadn't spoken to let alone seen in over a month. "Feeling's mutual," he chuckled softly before briefly squeezing me. I had no doubt in my mind, that he was sensing the waves of emotions flooding his way from me. Again, _embarrassing._

I released him only to get crushed by my bear-like uncle. "Missed you, Shortie." He said grinning and practically cutting off my blood supply. The childhood moniker he christened me with only really applied to me when I was numerically five and looked to be about thirteen. The years past that consisted of one painful, overnight growth spurt in which I finally reached my optimum height of an above-expected 5'10.

I say above-expected, as like most midwives, Carlisle took into consideration my parents heights before positing a calculated estimation of my expected height of 5'6 during my infancy.

I was a big girl, and Emmett knew it, but I loved him all the more for still thinking of me as that same scrawny little kid he'd give piggy-back rides to during our hunting trips.

"Missed you, too." I managed, momentarily struggling to get back onto my feet, while at the same time, rubbing my lower ribs discreetly.

The barrage of questions that followed, mainly from me in my excitement, fizzled out once the inevitable teasing commenced. Without much thought, I looked around the practically empty airport, secretly disappointed Jake wasn't here.

It was unnerving to realise the disappointment was unbearable, _unignorable._ As much as I was trying to conceal it, I was hurt. Devastated he didn't care enough to come…

I knew it was a new level of patheticness I was hitting, but I was helpless to it. I really couldn't help it.

"Whatchya lookin' for?" Emmett asked knowingly, amusement harbouring his voice as he casually draped one massive arm around my neck, pulling me into his side like he was about to give me a noogie.

"God help me."

"I missed this," he said completely oblivious to my complaints.

Jasper stifled a snigger and wordlessly took the only bag I was carrying.

I shook my head in reply to Emmett, brushing it all aside in nonchalance. I wasn't particularly in the mood to reply back with wit or matching humour and began to guide us both in the direction towards the exit sign. I was sure Jasper sensed the disappointment exuding off me though, but strangely, he seemed complacent.

It only catered to confuse me.

"I think we have something that'll help fix that," he said enigmatically.

Before I could ask him to elaborate, Emmett began distracting me with stories I'd missed out on in my absence and it only served to intensify my longing to see everyone.

"…and that's how Esme'll never know what happened to her _one-of-a-kind_ antique crystal vase," he finished. It thought it was a promising story, since it began with both brothers inventing an indoor golf game out of boredom one night. "It's also why you can _never-ever_ ask her about it either…" he said slowly, patronizingly- exaggerating the sweetness in his voice when he got to the 'never-ever' bit.

"You blamed it on me." I said in a deadpan voice. It wasn't really a question, since I already knew the answer. "How is that even fair? I haven't been home in months!"

"Yeah, I told her you'd say that, so I told her-"

"I feel like this is heading down a bad road, so I'm gonna just have to stop you there."

He ignored me, however, continuing with his sickly sweet banter and squeezing my shoulder for added emphasis of his passive aggressiveness. He was such a bully when he wanted to be. "…So I told her you didn't know it was a one-of-a-kind and threw it out."

I pursed my lips and nodded once. "And…_ there it is." _

Jasper let out a soft chuckle and I was immediately drawn back to what he'd just said before. "What did you mean when you said you'd fix my confusion?"

Indeed, my uncles kept me amused, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Jasper's continual, periodic smirks coupled with Emmett's inability to hide the massive grin plastered on his face, made me wonder if I was going to be on the receiving end of some inevitable practical joke. Admittedly, Emmett's face wasn't so much _suspect_ as much as Jasper's periodic smirks were.

Jasper's eyes lit up in what I could only understand to be his own understated enthusiasm, however. Wordlessly, he took a few deliberate steps forward ahead of us, only to turn back, walking backwards, to say, "Why don't you have a look?" He gestured towards the front.

I stared intently around. For a late Friday afternoon, things seemed dead.

But that's when I sensed them before I could see them. And with my heart in my mouth, I broke away from Emmett's side-hug and dived outside into the damp afternoon air to find what was to finally greet me in Port Angeles.

"Oh, wow." I managed, surveying the scene before me. Thirteen very important people stood in the wet to welcome me back home after a year away.

My grandparents were the first to pull me into a fierce hug. "Happy Belated Birthday, Darling." Esme said over my shoulder, squeezing me lightly during the brief embrace. "Welcome home."

I simply stared around, overwhelmed by the smiling faces. Somewhere in the sidelines, there were a few amused guffaws and someone was taking photos, visually documenting the shocked expression on my face no doubt.

I decided not to care.

Aside from my family, I noticed Charlie stood awkwardly among the small crowd, silently gaping at me while waiting to greet me too. "You look so different." He choked out.

I smiled timidly, only now realizing that in my rush to meet my flight, I still had my conservative work attire on from the conference. It was a simple _Jacquard Moire_ dress, but I imagined I must've looked like a girl in her early to mid twenties. This appearance alone can't've been easy for Charlie to wrap his head around, accepting how his now-thirteen-year-old granddaughter must look to the world.

"I can't tell you how much we've missed ya here, he said in his standard brusqueness, while at the same time, supplying a stiff one-armed hug of his own. Bless him. I always thought his awkwardness resembled much of my mom's.

"Granddad…" was all I could manage, hugging him fiercely.

Over his shoulder I noticed with a wash of overwhelming delight that Jacob stood towering over him, a devastatingly impish grin on his amused face. Our eyes met instantly, and a curious shock so overpowering, shot through me briefly stunning me. I could've sworn his confident smirk wavered for a moment before he blinked away the bizarre fix between us. Through my peripheral, I noticed Embry flanking him on his left, while Seth stood to his right.

Since he was clearly enjoying my reaction to the surprise reception, his fixed eyes- a curious mix of excitement and complacency lit back up in anticipation. I noticed his hands were shoved firmly in his pockets, as if it were a preventative measure to stop himself from bounding over and wrapping himself around me. That was wishful thinking on my part, but it only served to make his already fitted jacket strain against his bulging muscles.

So distracting.

I tried not to stare as I let Charlie go and flashed a composed smile, trying desperately to ignore the effects Jacob's devastating gaze elicited in me unknowingly.

The rest followed suit in welcoming me back, and it only fit that Jacob was inevitably last. I'll admit, it was slightly unnerving to feel him simply watch as the swarm of family and friends greeted me home through kisses and embraces. There was a playful edge in his gaze that did nothing to subside the distracting effect it had on me. I was sure that was deliberate on his part. What was further annoying, however, was how I could only respond through briefly meeting his silent scrutiny over their shoulders.

I could tell he was enjoying that.

It was only when I was done with Seth that I couldn't stop smiling as I made my way over to him, trying to finally fling myself into his arms. Jacob dodged me playfully at first, which I didn't particularly take to, before finally yanking my arm and pulling me into him.

With our bodies pressed flush against each other, I didn't want him to know that that simple gesture alone, practically threw me, taking my breath away. I did, however, have the distinct impression his replying chuckle said it all really.

"I'd say, 'It's nice to see ya again," he breathed innocently into my hair, and I tried to ignore the feel of his hot breath lingering against my own overly sensitive skin. I could even feel his dimple press into my cheek. "But that'd just be a crazy understatement.'

Because of his towering form, he swept me so effortlessly off the ground that I ended up resting my chin against the crook of his neck. "You came…" Was all I could manage.

God, I forgot how warm he was…

He laughed, the familiar rasp in his voice made me smile against him. "And you're shocked?'

I didn't say anything and felt his large arms tightening their hold around me. It was amazing how without warning, that simple gesture -intent on reassuring me, made me feel so many things all at once.

Almost instinctively, I nuzzled helplessly into his neck, relishing the feel of his stubble against my own soft skin.

God, he smelled so good. Pheromone. Yum.

"Yeah, I missed you more," he whispered softly. I had to roll my eyes at that- _always making things a competition…_

I did notice however, that though his words were intended to lighten the reunion, there was a curious strain in his voice that only made me immediately want to look back up at him and soothe him.

But then I realised I was being an idiot.

Instead, I let one arm drape around his neck, my fingers began to coast through his raven black hair while the other remained safely wedged between our tightly bound bodies. Without thinking much about it, I closed my eyes, breathing him in and savouring it all. I felt his chest rumble beneath my own as he chuckled to himself- no doubt, in response to my previously annoyed reaction. He pulled me tighter into him still.

It was only when a random, awkward throat clearing interrupted us, did I realise we were hugging for a fairly long time.

I decided to let go, only to find Jacob still had one arm wrapped stubbornly around me. "We've only just got you back," He replied simply to my curious gaze. There was an understated truth in his eyes and a resolve in his voice that made me want to just stare at him for a long while and not care what people thought. "I'm not about to let you go just yet."

I didn't think he quite realised how the foreign feel of his hand pressed so delicately, _so innocently _against my lower back, sent shivers down my spine. "I'm not planning on going anywhere anytime soon."

Jacob flashed me a devastating smile- one that reached his eyes and made me want to slump to the floor. "Good." He said. "Because we have plans and I'd _hate_ for us to reschedule…"

* * *

_Author's note:_

_So my beta made a funny point about how my JN stories have been seriously starved of sexy Jacob…_

_And then it hit me that I'm actually scared to do this relationship justice. Seriously, I'm in awe of people who've attempted to portray these to in a tasteful way. Tis very hard to do imo._

_Aside from getting sick of the emo-Ness (hah. get it? sorry.) I decided to place a few flashbacks for peeps to get the context and set the setting to why she is the way she is at present._

_One, it'll help prevent any confusion and me duping any existing fics that might be addressing the imprinting issue. (I hope) And two, I just want Jacob –in some way, shape or form- in this already!_

_FYIs: If anyone's confuzzled, I've made a brief timeline on my profile._

_-Also, Dr Bezzera is real. What she does is real. Should Dr Bezzera stumble across this fanfic, mentioning her, I'm sorry- I know I should've asked permission._

_-GA VO: Episode Six: If Tomorrow Never Comes; May 1, 2005_

_-Since Mandy Moore- my girl crush and the actress I envision in my head as the perfect adult Nessie is 5'10 in real life, I decided to stick with that being Nessie's height. :)_

* * *

_Anonffreader, you asked for a projection and whether I'd finish this by 2014? I'd like to think I would, by then, be done. At least let's hope so. I really wished you'd get an account so I can pm you. *Hint, hint._

_As for a projection, I'd like to say I can aim for a chapter every two months, but I'm not a woman of my word, so don't trust what comes out of my mouth. I'm a bit of a disappointment, I know. Once I finish uni, I intend on going out into the real world and unfortunately becoming a grownup for a while. So unfair, since I don't know what that means for my ff writing. :(_

_I do know that I will finish this. Whether that's well into 2014, who really knows? Hope you're good, Chick. ;)_


	5. Chapter 5 Home Away From Home

_Chapter five: Home Away From Home_

_Hey all! Surprised to see this fic come back from the dead? Me too. _

_This chapter is dedicated to PemberlyRose. It's the only thing I can offer to voice my thanks for making an eff-awesome banner and animation for this fic (on my profile, if you're curious) Thanks again, Pembs! _

_Find me on twitter: hennaluv_

_Chap Playlist:_

_Emma's Imagination- This day_

_Lenka- The Show_

_Needtobreathe- Something Beautiful_

_The All American Rejects- Dance Inside_

_Ross Copperman- I Don't Want To Let You Go_

_Diana Vickers- Me and You_

_I'm not going to say I don't have random music on my phone, because I do. Enjoy…_

* * *

In your ocean, I'm ankle deep  
I feel the waves crashin' on my feet  
It's like I know where I need to be  
But I can't figure out, yeah I can't figure out

Hey now, this is my desire  
Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful  
To touch me, I know that I'm in reach  
'Cause I am down on my knees.  
I'm waiting for something beautiful

Needtobreathe- Something Beautiful

* * *

The walk back to my hotel room was becoming nothing more than a wistful dream, only to be discarded. Vivi decided in typical carioca fashion, to pull me without much warning into a quiet, unpretentious bar.

I decided I'd let her have this one since killing some time before Nahuel arrived was clear to me, but at the same time, I felt that this was my goodbye to Vivi in a way. As we entered through the threshold, my eyes coasted across the foreign bar. It was like any other botequim in Rio with ice-cold _chope_ on stand by. Vivi ordered our first round as I slumped on a stool next to her, momentarily overlooking how familiar the bartender looked.

Without a word, she handed me a drink and I just stared at it. At the age of thirteen, I was already a college graduate and drinking to reassert the guise my family held so religiously to blend in was nothing foreign to me, nor was it an aspect of the lie that was particularly difficult. If I was truly honest with myself, telling people my biological parents were actually my peers- a brother and his girlfriend, was more difficult than I had ever anticipated growing up.

Now, I usually didn't drink. Since my overly sensitive nose only seemed to detect rotten fumes every time I went near anything remotely alcohol-based, I hated the stuff.

_But_ from the time I had arrived in Brazil, I was addicted to these drinks called caipirinhas, and Vivi being Vivi, knew this all too well, because the next thing I knew I was downing my _third_.

"Renesmee? You're not eh-feelin' a little eh-tipsy already are you?" she finally spoke, her accent sounded thicker as she began ploughing through her shots.

I blinked at her languidly, my lids feeling surprisingly heavy. That would soon pass. What she didn't know was that alcohol did very little to my system. Like most foods, my unnaturally high metabolism seemed to just burn it all off within minutes.

This was both a significant advantage and a weakness. It meant I could hold my drink and my strong immune system could easily withstand meagre illnesses that most humans fall short on. However, like all things, there are two sides to the same coin; and having my half vampire physiology also meant medicine and standard pain relief- if I ever needed it- was, in the long run, ineffective. My body would simply burn it off too quickly.

I sipped my tangy-sweet fruit drink, reminiscing on the things I would miss about Rio: The sun, the beaches, playing spot-the-silocone with Vivi while lounging on the beach as she sipped her ice cool beer and I wrote in my travel diary...

"So, are you eh-goin' back to the boy who broke your heart?" she asked bluntly and I nearly spat my drink out.

She certainly didn't beat around the bush did she? I just wiped my drink-dribbled chin before taking another long sip. As I chugged it down, thoughts of Jake came bubbling to the surface again, completely unbidden. Once more, I considered what I had seen earlier today in the crowd. Was it really him among the sea of swaying bodies or had it really been my subconscious giving me what I wanted in that moment?

"No." I answered quietly. I wasn't quite sure whether I was answering myself, or Vivi. I had hoped however, that she missed the involuntary cracking of my voice- something I hadn't really anticipated on.

"So there _is_ a guy involved." It wasn't a question.

I stared intently at my now-empty-glass. "Er...yeah." I admitted sheepishly. "Sort of."

I spent most of today trying pathetically not to think about it- _him,_ and it was exhausting. Because thinking about Jacob was inevitable. Like a child, pretending like they weren't there, I was sparing myself from hurting, from _feeling,_ by shoving everything to one side. And trying to avoid it all was selfish.

I did this, knowing full well he was out there suffering unequivocally. Probably more.

The magic of imprinting was still such a foreign concept to me, that again, I wondered how my leaving really affected him.

I began boring a hole into my empty glass now. "I'm…_ not _the good person you make me out to be you know…"

Vivi laughed a little wryly.

"You don't know anything about me. You don't know what I've done. What I keep doing to him…"

Through my peripheral, she looked thoughtful as she placed her own shot glass down. "I know that you're a strange kid who likes to run and keep runnin'. Who doesn't sleeeep much. It's like you won't let yourself relax. Like you're punishing yourself for somethin'. I've just watched her give away hundreds of thousands of dollars to those less fortunate-"

"Okay, let's not broadcast that little tidbit to the world, Vivs…"

"C'mon, sweetheart. All I'm sayin' is nothing is ever that bad."

Trust me, this was.

She chuckled then. "You know what I think? I think you have a massive cheeep on your shoulder, and you won't let anyone help you caaarry it."

"I doubt you'd wanna hear my problems, Vivi."

"Try me."

"It's complicated."

"I'll try to keep up."

"It's really long."

"Start from the begeening then."

I sighed, frustrated with her persistence and started fumbling with the toy umbrella I got with my drink. The start? Did it start with mom arriving to Forks? When my parents met? How about when Jake came into the scene? Mom's pregnancy? My birth? _The imprinting._

I finally set the toy umbrella down and reluctantly looked up at her. "The truth is, I'm a selfish, spoilt brat who ran away from home because I found out my parents had a life before me."

To an extent, this was the truth, and I'd hoped she'd leave it. As expected, though, Vivi had absolutely no idea what I was talking about.

I sighed again. "This is me trying to screw with my dad, moping and pissing away my trust fund." I said bluntly, hoping she'd drop it now. "It's a hissy fit on a massive level. 'Cause I'm a screw up. And I'm selfish…"

And I didn't deserve his love.

Vivi chuckled. "After what you did today? I don't believe you're selfish, Nessie..." she said softly.

It was me who laughed, slightly taken aback by how dark it came out. "You know nothing about me," I repeated once more, surprised again, to hear the follow-up indifference in my voice. "That money you saw me donate?" For emergencies only. Secretly stored away. If there was ever a situation that led me to run, I had that to fall back on. For my family to realize I was practically handing it out like short change was something I wasn't particularly looking forward to. "It was a way to get back at my dad, because I knew it'd piss him off."

"Daddy issues," Boris, the bartender, interjected randomly. It was then that I noticed his eyes briefly rake over my body before smirking sheepishly. I visibly stiffened, silently creeped out at how remarkably like Emmett he physically resembled. "That usually means angry sex…" he grinned again. "I like that."

I shuddered and needed another drink.

"Ay, kid…" Vivi said making her efforts to blatantly ignore Boris known to all, "…there's a call from him everyday. I wish _my _Papi loved me..."

I shook my head, realising she was exaggerating and that the calls were mainly from my family checking up on me. The calls I received from Edward were less frequent, which I realized was a result of him reading my thoughts the night I left, and wanting to give me space. These calls from my father were generally brief and awkward. And almost _always _related back to my mother's own well-being and how my impulsive departure had considerably affected her.

My chest knotted painfully and my heart literally ached at the thought of hurting Bella. Making her suffer alongside me, was something I hadn't anticipated on. I got the impression my leaving was almost certainly the reason the family was now disjointed too, with Emmett and Rose's small get away to Alaska.

Of course Edward would never say it in so many words, but I got the distinct feeling his calls were serving as a bleak reminder of just how my absence affected _everyone else._ How it meant my mother was suffering, being stoic and guilt ridden… How Rosalie couldn't stand to be in the same room as either one of my parents… and how Esme must be silently grieving the loss of us all.

They were just other things to add to the list of reasons I wanted to just _let go._

"I don't know about that…" I finally replied.

"Ay, Nessie… He may not be perfect, but what father ees?"

I cocked a brow, "Where did you get the impression I want _Edward_ to be the 'perfect dad?'"

I wasn't exactly the perfect daughter these days, so I didn't hang on to any inclination of him holding his end of the bargain.

"You call him by his first name?"

Sometimes. Since our uncanny resemblance was apparently difficult to ignore, to the outside world, we were expected to play our roles as fraternal twins. Thus, it was mainly to assert our roles as siblings.

"So, what have your parents got to do with theees anyway?"

"Everything. And nothing. I don't know…" I frowned, "Can we drop it? Talk about more pleasant things... like how Boris keeps ogling you." I flashed him a grin, desperate to change the subject.

Emmett's Russian doppelganger suddenly looked confused before looking over to her. Vivi didn't look impressed though. Something told me my friend still had abandonment issues. "No. So this guy of yours-"

I took another long draw of my new caipirinha, not really feeling it in anymore. "He's not really mine anymore…" I corrected her, ignoring the ache for wanting to see him again. As I uttered the words, even I was silently surprised by my own reluctance to believe myself.

They just didn't seem real. They didn't feel relevant as I spoke them. Could this be a last fight by my subconscious, still unwilling to let him go completely?

"Your parents didn't like 'im?"

I laughed wryly at that. _Hardly._ While I admit, it took a while for dad to get used to the apparent transition between Jake and I, that was never really an issue for us. People apparently expected it, and having had time to reflect on it, I came to understand why now: the imprinting.

It seemed to dictate every aspect of my life that I cared about, so of course they expected it. From the very beginning, they understood why a heartbroken Jacob would 'choose' to remain in my mother's life despite common sense dictating otherwise.

"Mom already knew him. They're good friends actually." Best friends. I mean before I came along…

Vivi spat out her drink. "What?"

I tried to ignore the amused stares we were attracting.

"Exactly how old is thees guy?"

Twenty-nine today.

"Relax, it's not what you think."

She huffed, incredulous. "You don't wanna know what I theenk."

I took a sip of my drink and once more, my mind reflected back on the day I'd arrived back home over four months ago…

Jacob still had one large arm wrapped tightly around me, refusing to let go since we hadn't seen each other in _weeks-_ not months. What the family didn't know was he'd actually come to visit me on several occasions over the year, extending his stay every time, just so we could catch up. A part of me sensed that he didn't like it when we had to part and go our separate ways as much as me and for that, I was secretly relieved and content.

I chose to ignore the stares, the throat clearings and the general awkwardness that followed our apparently long embrace and sunk into his side, practically leaning against him for support. While I knew he noticed the strangled guffaws in the sidelines, relief swept over me when Jacob acted like it was the most natural thing that could've happened between us. I decided to follow suit and act casual.

"Let's get you home, Honey. I'm sure you're about ready to crash right about now…" he said, drawing me in impossibly closer- an innocent enough gesture, but I struggled to hide the affects of it nonetheless.

Then it struck me that I must look pretty rough for him to suspect I was tired. When I flitted around the house in Seattle, I didn't think to check myself out before heading back out.

A stream of 'nos' immediately rolled out of Rosalie, momentarily interrupting my mental panic. "She might be staying around yours, but I can't see why she can't come with us for a few hours…"

"Hold up, Blondie- isn't the whole point of her staying with me so her parents _won't _detect any recent scents in the house?"

My aunt tried to conceal the brief narrowing of her eyes in her usually composed features. "Esme, Carlisle…back me up here, _please,"_ my aunt said stiffly, without so much as breaking eye contact with Jacob.

I groaned, sensing this might take a while and glanced over at my grandparents, who apparently agreed with Jake that I needed a good nap. I was starting to get the impression I looked bad and began to lamely flatten out the sides of my hair.

"Rosalie, she's bound to be a little jet-lagged, dear…" Esme said softly, reaching for Rose's shoulder and squeezing it in a comforting gesture.

"I'm fine," I chirped back casually, ignoring Jacob's passing death-glare.

They all ignored me, however, and began debating and arguing amongst themselves as to who would take sole custody of me tonight.

A wide-eyed Emmett suggested we get on board the small ferry that would take us back to where they all parked their cars, while we waited for the official plans. Jacob couldn't agree more, and without much warning, not-so-discreetly pressed me forward in his desperation to get me away from Rose.

As we all boarded the ferry, laughing, joking and stumbling into separate conversations, Jacob fought a grin, making it a barefaced effort to ignore Rosalie's jibes while Esme loosely reproached her.

I glanced over at him; hating being practically man handled on board, and instantly regretted it. Briefly, as his eyes met mine, he raised the right side of his closed mouth in reply, forming only a devilish smirk.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing, _Dog_…" Rose's voice stalked us from behind. She was worryingly calm, and composed. It was unnerving.

Jacob feigned confusion. "Escorting Nessie onto a boat? Gotta say…Even for you, Smart-stuff, I didn't think that was hard to separate-"

I elbowed him lightly in the ribs, effectively shutting him up.

"_Ow!" _He exclaimed dramatically, his eyes simultaneously darted to me in annoyance.

Okay, so it wasn't as light as I intended for it to be.

"Jeeze, what was that for?"

Both of us ignored Rose's obvious glee from behind at my interruption, while he again feigned hurt and began rubbing his side really vividly.

"You know why," I replied, desperately trying not to look so concerned as he soaked up sympathy from my grandmother now.

In one last dramatic flailing of his arms, "_She_ started it!"

"Then you finish it, Jake…"

"I just did, but then you-"

I took his large hand in mine and squeezed it gently. Jacob instantly stopped in his tracks, almost sighing in resignation.

I didn't know why and it confused me. I hadn't done anything yet.

In spite of this, I shoved a few familiar memories his way. Of them, time and again, bickering. _Tolerate her, Jake. For me, please? _

He huffed.

_Jacob, please? I know that's a difficult concept for you, but I'd rather _enjoy _the feel of_ _being back home for at least fifteen minutes before needing to separate you two. _

He pursed his lips, scowling a little. I tried not to stare.

I loved them both, but from the very onset, my earliest memories were of them- my two very first caregivers, never really seeing eye-to-eye on _anything._ They never really held any common ground. Thirteen years had passed, and very little in that respect changed. It was sad, sometimes funny, but more often than not, _annoying._ They fought over me like siblings battling over a beloved stuffed toy. Or a remote.

"You're just lucky you have the whole puppy-dog look down," he finally said.

My aunt, having watched the silent exchange between Jacob and I, went to open her mouth before closing it again. "Too easy," she finally said to herself.

It didn't take me long to understand this was a jibe at his 'puppy-dog' reference. This of course, didn't go unnoticed by Jake either because his eyes silently begged for permission to respond.

_Rise above, Jake… _

"Just one more?"

_No._

"Thanks, Ness."

_Jake._

His eyes darted to Rosalie in a nefarious grin. "For Nessie's sake, I'm gonna rise above this, Rose," he replied slowly, "…and say one last thing: _act your age. _You've got, what? Over sixty years on me, right?"

The ferry fell unnaturally silent, with everyone's hushed voices pausing to hear a reaction from an unnervingly composed Rose. All separate conversation that took place before around us, died the moment Jacob called rose old.

My mouth slack, I could only shake my head, half amused, half in-shock to adequately respond. "Oh, Jacob…"

Not looking away from my clearly upset aunt, I casually and all too deliberately stepped in front of Jacob, who to my growing annoyance seemed both amused by Rose's composure but even more so at my attempts to protect his life. "Er…Rosey… he's an idiot."

"Oh, sweetheart, I don't need you telling me that."

The idiot scoffed behind me.

"He didn't mean it-"

"Yes I di-"

Once more, I interrupted Jacob's best-landed efforts, his impeccable gift at goading her, with another deliberate elbowing in the gut.

He grunted, a curious mix of both pain and amusing pleasure as he pressed his forehead against my shoulder for some support. "Why?" he croaked against me, wheezing out a laugh.

My pseudo-violence seemed to only appease Rosalie for now. Quite fluidly, and almost reluctantly, she turned on her heel and retreated towards where my family stood watching things unfold intently.

"You punch… _like a freaking man."_

I finally turned to regard a hunched-over, scowling Jacob. He looked so cute when he scowled at me. "And you whine like a girl. Because _that, _my friend, wasn't a punch."

"Felt like one," he complained, rubbing his flat stomach, wincing. My eyes immediately darted towards where I must've specifically elbowed him.

"Does it really hurt?" I couldn't mask nor ignore the worry in my voice and it seemed, neither could Jacob. Twice now, I'd hurt him without really meaning to and he lapped up the milk.

"Yeah. _Badly,_" he nodded earnestly, distorting his cute face in a way to adequately exaggerate his pain.

"I guess I don't know my own strength."

"Who really does?" he asked, his expression shifting to amusement once again, the suddenness of it was almost comical. He leaned in and closed the growing gap I had inadvertently made between us, "I'll take your punches any day, Ness."

I squinted in confusion. "I don't plan to physically abuse you any time soon, Jake."

Jacob laughed easily, extending his palm out to me so _I _could be the one to close the remaining gap.

"Just saying…" He shrugged in nonchalance. He remained still, waiting for me to take his hand again. "I'd take your hits happily."

I stared at him dubiously. There was an unreasonable reverence in his words. An absoluteness, that made the little hairs on my neck stand on end. It's when Jacob said random stuff like this, stuff that shouldn't make any sense to me, that made me want him even more.

Wordlessly, I took his hand. "Masochist."

While we watched the squabbles slowly abate over where we would first go, Jacob stood deliberately close to me and leant against the boat's metal railing, one arm propping him up. This scrap he had with Rose was taking on a whole new, messed-up level, because essentially, this draping-of-the-arm, was most likely an intentional way to antagonise Rose. But I wasn't about to complain. Together, we quite happily watched on as the grown ups 'talked' and discussed my fate.

Not knowing where I'd end up tonight, or if indeed I'd get the chance later, I decided I wanted to catch up with Jake now. "So what's new, home-dog?"

Excluding his pack, no one knew he'd come to visit me in July. And frankly, I was relieved when he did since the unusual Jacob-withdrawals slowly simmering inside, were upsetting_- intimidating_ even. I didn't know what to think, and it alluded me why I was so completely reliant on him being with me. We'd practically spent the whole month playing scrabble and eating pizza.

So naturally, it was strange and all at once _unnerving_ to admit even to myself that despite the months since I'd last seen my family, it was Jacob I was yearning for the most. That realization alone floored me. It made me feel a maelstrom of emotions that I couldn't quite understand let alone label.

Jacob tore his eyes away the entertaining scene before us and peered down to consider me. "Er…nutin,_ 'homie,'_" he replied, stifling a laugh while air-quoting the last word. It was impossible sometimes to not keep a straight face looking at him. The infectious smile in his eyes coupled with and the casual smirk made me want to laugh right along with him. "But I guess if you're looking for dirt- I only have the last couple of months of Embry's squalid life to share."

Upon hearing his name, Embry flashed an impish grin before bowing mid way through a conversation with Quil and Claire on the opposite end.

I had to laugh.

"Yeah, you laugh now," Jacob continued, the amusement in his own voice did nothing to help me stop. He moved in closer to virtually whisper the next bit and I tried not to stiffen or make him feel uncomfortable like before. "But I guarantee, his life_- __in great detail_, isn't something to laugh about."

While I was trying not to tremble in a way his hot breath invoked in me, he paused to consider what he just said. "Actually, I take that back. _It really is."_

"Green isn't really a nice colour on ya, Jake," Embry shot back casually from the other side.

That got me curious and it appeared I couldn't hide that since Jacob shrugged it off. I got the sense it was his attempt to reassure me- of what? I wasn't entirely sure.

"Later…" Jacob said in reply to my silent question, one side of his lips slowly skewing up as if he were secretly enjoying my bewilderment.

We fell into a comfortable silence and my eyes began coasting around at the thirteen people who went out of their way to make some time for me in their already busy lives to welcome me back home. I watched as a sixteen-year-old Claire Young stood listening to an animated Quil. I tried not to eavesdrop, but I stifled a laugh, realising his excitement was over the new season of _Glee._

I watched as my only living biological grandfather, Charlie, looked complacent sitting with my step-grandmother, Sue.

I watched them all, and fell into a silent stupor. The two people that I wanted to see in that moment, had no knowledge of my return. It was here, the twinge of my parent's absence felt more real to me, and a pang of longing that I hadn't quite anticipated on, seemed to take over.

I tried to reel it in. Through the talking and the various conversations however, I noticed Jasper briefly look over at me, hugging Alice to his side and trying to be discreet about checking up on me.

There must've been something obvious in my expression, because having noticed the silent transaction exchanged between my empathic uncle and I, Esme broke away from the discussions and tactfully made her way over to me.

"They'll be here next week," she whispered into my ear, giving me a soft, comforting side hug.

I leant so easily into her for support. It felt really ridiculous since I didn't realise I was that transparent.

Her words prodded Jacob to glance up from the debates unfolding in front of us. There was curiosity mingled with some concern in his eyes. "Hey..." he asked softly, straightening himself up a little, "What's wrong?"

I shook my head, attempting to play it down.

"The official birthday celebrations are only going to start once a certain two return from Alaska," Esme assured me.

Immediately, Jacob understood. It was embarrassing to watch his features soften to his signature warm smile. Choosing not to deliberately tease me about it made it so much worse, however.

It took a few more minutes before there was a reaching of a compromise with the 'adults': I was to ride with Jacob in his black wrangler to Charlie's house- neutral ground for all parties concerned, where I'd have a brief catch up with all before heading back to Jacob's place to catch up on sleep.

"Then it's settled!" I exclaimed, relieved the negotiations were now out of the way and I could feel the ferry finally spluttering to a slow stop. Jacob fought a grin as he tore himself away from me to receive Jasper's proffering of my bag. It worried me how I already missed the sudden loss of his heat, but I chose to shove that weird dependency to one side as we made our way off the boat.

"I'll see _you,_ a little later then." I said directing that specifically at a clearly still-miffed Rose. It was a feeble attempt at making my gorgeously adorable aunt feel wanted.

Jacob saw through it of course, since he pursed his lips while placing my bag in the backseat of his car a few feet away.

He would behave. He slammed the door, a strange smirk on his face as he made his way slowly back to where Rose and I stood.

I sensed she wanted me to ride with her and since I only had the unequivocal want to stay with Jake for now, the realization made me feel a guilt I hadn't quite anticipated on.

Because Rosalie Hale was many things to me. She was fearless, witty and stunning. To most who really knew us, she was my aunt. I considered her as so much more, however. She was my confidante, my sister, my godmother and, if I'm honest with myself, my _other-mother._

Yes, Rosalie Hale played a significant part in my life. When my mother couldn't be there for me, Rose filled in. Indeed, my earliest memories were of Rose doting on me, taking care of me, showering me with affection.

And there was so much to Rose, Jake didn't see- things he had no idea of. It wasn't his fault, of course. It was simply a product and the way in which she wanted people to view her as in this world. But it didn't stop me from breaking in places- to know two of my favourite people in the entire world, didn't like each other much.

Ignoring Jacob now, Rosalie flashed me a small smile and hugged me tightly. This felt like a betrayal on a monumental level and I wasn't certain if she would let this go inside.

"Yeah," she said, trying to sound bright, but failing miserably. There was something strange in her voice. It was laden with emotions I couldn't quite place.

I didn't understand why she was acting so sentimental right now, but I didn't like it. I didn't like her looking so dejected.

Yes, to the world my aunt was cold, reserved, and a general bitch. To the world, she was self-centred, superficial and demonstrated qualities that only a classic narcissist would hold close to her own cold, un-beating heart. But the world didn't know her like I did.

What was a devastating blow, as I quickly learned growing up, was how this was a misunderstanding she had no desire to correct.

The world didn't know that she thought this was her way of doing them a favour. It was her way of pushing people out…

"C'mon, Babe," Emmett said trying to lighten the mood. Rosalie didn't really look away, doing nothing to subside the guilt I was feeling. "We'll see the little nerd in less than an hour anyway..." he explained. And as lovingly as he uttered his last sentiment, my uncle went out of his way to tousle my already-ridiculous hair.

"Nice," I said, remaining stoic.

"It's definitely an improvement." I heard Jasper casually observe over the guffaws expressed by several Quiluete voices.

Mechanically, I retreated towards the safe confines of Jacob's new wrangler, only diving in to dodge further ridicule from my uncles. Jacob followed, slipping in himself, only to laugh some more in my face. He drove through the Olympic National Rainforest and despite my vivid memory; I'd honestly forgotten how truly breathtaking the ride back to Forks always was.

Having gaped open mouthed out of the window for a few moments, I could no longer ignore the feel of Jacob practically boring holes into the back of my frizz-covered head.

And it was only through the green-brown blur of the trees, that I detected the transparent, warped reflection of him displayed on said window. It witnessed him glancing over at me wordlessly…_ frequently._ The foreign expression on his face was something so entirely new to me that it almost knocked the wind out of me. Yet at the same time, curiously and almost instinctually, I wanted so desperately to whip myself around and match whatever it was he was doing. Ogling his reflection, it was hard not to notice his dark eyes and the way in which they were so soft, so unmistakably…_content _with each bashful glance. It was hard not to appreciate the cute lines at the sides that only formed from the soft, lingering smile curving his lips.

He was so beautiful.

"I missed you!" I announced frankly, realizing it must've looked like I had gawked at the blurring trees for an embarrassing five minutes.

Jacob only laughed, not looking away from the road now. I tried not to stare so intently at the sexy five o' clock shadow now covering his adorable dimples and defined jaw line.

"Occasionally, I'd love to ask Edward how your head works," he said.

"Why ask Edward when I'm sitting right here?"

He raised a brow, his beautiful, deep-set eyes once more glinted with humour as they peered down at me. "_Riiight._ And you're telling me you wouldn't edit anything out?"

I was about to reply when the lowly feel of a small, uncomfortable rumble threatened to roar its way out of me inside my stomach. Opting to avoid further embarrassment today, I almost ripped my seatbelt off and dived straight for the back seat to begin rummaging through my bag for some candy.

I wasn't quite sure what Jacob wanted to specifically know about my thought process, but I was flattered he was curious. Like a child, I was easily distracted and impulsive sometimes. My family have on occasion let me know that mid way through a conversation, I'd often move onto something else, or bring up an entirely new topic into discussion, assuming they were following along. it was usually a bi-product of having an in depth conversation with…myself- with my thoughts. And it was dad, half amused, half following what I was next babbling on about, who had to fill them all in.

I put that down to a combination of factors: being half vampire, and still being relatively young. Half vampire meant plenty of room to think… and my youth meant absorbing things like a sponge and being relatively fickle.

Deep in thought, it was only when Jake's muffled choking drew me back from my lurid candy hunt, did I realise I had my ass sticking out in the air, inches from his own face. I craned my neck awkwardly to the front. The motion made things so much worse and Jacob visibly stiffened, looking, I reluctantly had to admit, _extremely _uncomfortable at the situation I had accidentally presented him with.

In my current position, that's exactly what I was doing: I was practically presenting myself to him.

This was undoubtedly, unquestionably, _irrevocably,_ a cause for a marathon inward-cringe session later.

The fitted dress I wore did nothing but make my already rounded butt look so much bigger than it actually was. I felt the familiar humiliation of red-hot heat surge through me, burning alight my skin and undeniably colouring my face.

I immediately sat back down, my back hitting the back of the seat, ramrod straight.

I didn't dare look over at him. I didn't dare move. My hands gripped the plastic candy wrap with a vice-like hold. Over the humming of the wrangler's engine, the crackling of the packaging seemed so much louder in the comparatively silent car.

I realised then that I was making the whole situation worse by acting like it meant something.

Through my peripheral Jacob held the wheel with a death grip, both hands so tightly wound I didn't know what to think. So stiff was his posture, that I sensed every muscle in his body was tense. His already-defined biceps looked strained, like he was physically holding on, stopping himself from jumping out of the moving car.

The expression on his face was nothing I'd ever seen before either. I didn't know whether to take this overall reaction as an insult or consider the very real possibility that I was simply reading too much into his body language. I snorted at my own thought. Of course I was. I always do.

Minutes felt like hours. And I could sense Jacob was doing everything in his power to just pretend he didn't see anything. He practically bore holes into the blurring asphalt.

With careful, if not, _reluctant deliberation,_ I decided to bite the bullet, ignoring the massive elephant giving birth to another elephant in the car, and to just act normal too. As if nothing had happened. Pretend my butt hadn't been inches away from his own face.

_God. My butt inches from his face._

I sank into my seat, cringing one last time while reliving the memory of what had minutes ago, transpired.

"Why?" I finally blurted out, desperately trying to shift the pervasive …awkwardness? Was it awkwardness? I didn't think so. It was something else. Something I knew, but I hadn't quite understood. Like a memory of the dream lost and forgotten the next morning, it was something familiar and foreign and new at the same time. It was a confusion over something I had and knew, but couldn't quite place.

"Huh?" He said, finally looking back at me and absently coasting a finger over his lips.

"Why my thoughts?" I elaborated.

If he only knew what went on practically _ninety percent of the time _in my head, I'm pretty sure he'd run a mile.

"Oh that," He cracked an easy smile then, and I breathed a sigh of quiet relief that at least the worst was over now.

"Well, one minute… you're looking at the trees like you've never seen them before, and the next…." He shook his head dismissively, stifling a laugh now.

Oh.

Inside, I was thrilled that in spite of somehow managing to offer myself up Bonobo style, Jacob felt comfortable enough to laugh again around me. I regained some of my own confidence and visibly relaxed into my seat, opening up the candy I formally held with a death grip.

"…the next minute, you're telling me you missed me. Something about the trees, scream Jacob Black, Ness?"

Actually, yes. My childhood was like some surreal fairytale based in the woods. Jacob was, of course, in my story. He was my story. Always there, filling my head with magic. Filling the woods with magic. It was a giant playground where I would duck and dive, weave and dodge- a place full of endless possibilities for a little girl. I'd leave all my inhibitions back at the castle with the bravest king and his beautiful queen and run free, hurl myself into the air and bound over falling branches, climb up trees barefoot.

Jacob was always there of course. Playing along with me. Indulging me in my fantasies.

"Aren't you going to say you missed me too?"

Jacob smiled slowly. "I'm busy driving."

"Proof, I see," I began, shoving a strawberry shoelace into my mouth, "…of your impeccable abilities at multitasking."

His eyes darted to the candy. I began chewing loudly to annoy him now. "_Mmm. So good,"_ I said, dangling one deliberately in front of my face before throwing it in to my mouth.

Jacob just stared, glowering. "If it helps, I missed you annoying me."

"It helps." I replied. "_So much." _I chewed louder.

"_Such _a brat," He breathed, staring back at the road._ "_ You're not even going to offer me one, are you?"

"Can't. _You're driving."_

He smiled wryly, briefly checking his mirrors. "I missed you, Nessie," he finally spoke, "I missed your voice. I missed your smile…your laughter. Above all else," he said, turning to regard me softly. I lost myself in him and felt my mouth slack and a lace just hang limply from it. "I think missed your _brattish sarcasm _the most. Not even Leah could do you justice."

Oh.

I punched his massive arm lightly and he chuckled, "Actually, I have a few surprises lined up just for you these coming weeks…"

I cocked a brow. That got me intrigued.

"Yeah, one of them, I offer you now: Since it's your thirteenth, I'm offering you thirteen wishes."

I sat up from my seat to offer him a lace. "Wishes?"

The corner of his lips skewed up slowly. "Yeah, bare in mind they've gotta be doable and a little on the reasonable side since I want to meet them… You can't make me do anything dangerous like… _eat fruitcake."_

"That's no fun."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Scary."

I skewed my brows in confusion, "What is?"

"How well I know you."

I laughed incredulously. There was no way he knew _everything _about me. "That's not true."

"It sort of is."

I sat up, preparing to prove him wrong and enjoy it. "Fine, _Best-friend_, what am I allergic to?"

He sniggered. "Oak sperm."

I walked into that one. During the early spring season in Hanover where I spent my latter years growing up, when the oak _pollen_ practically polluted the air, the family realized my sensitive nasal cavity could only take so much of the invisible invasion, without my allergies running amuck. It was only the damp woods of Forks, where I could truly feel comfortable breathing.

"So, what are your wishes?" Jacob inquired.

"Oh, no. I'll make them in a certain order, in subtle moments," I retorted.

Jacob laughed at me. "Nessie, you're about as subtle as gun."

The remnants of the journey was spent deliberately annoying Jake via playing with his radio. Other than Jacob laughing, nothing pleased me more than watching his own head slowly implode in on itself.

The late afternoon expended at Charlie's, catching up with my family felt long overdue. It felt good to finally talk, to tell them of my work, the fortnight long conferences and extended training I had. Alice began explaining the intricacy of keeping such a wedding a secret. She gave me a brief overview of the dress, the flowers and the guest list. They explained how this was going to be a comparatively more private affair, with only our closest family and friends arriving. While the women in my life began barraging me with wedding stuff, I noticed the guys were outside near the forest edge- intentionally away from Charlie's immediate eye line, playing a bizarre game of football. I say bizarre, because Embry and Quil were phased, in concert against my uncles.

With a beer in his hand, Jacob decided to watch from the sidelines, occasionally acquiring my attention when he laughed at Emmett continually thrashing Embry to the floor only for the wolf to quip at his legs.

I got the distinct feeling my uncle wasn't so much into the game as much as he wanted to annoy Embry.

As Alice persevered in her attempts to describe her latest project so animatedly, I tried to conceal the tiredness I felt. By my fourth stifled yawn and the blinking away of the tears accompanying my tiredness however, Jacob declared it was time for me to go home with him and 'get some shuteye.'

I didn't have the energy to dispute it and gladly let him lead me to his car. He even helped me in after I had said my goodbyes, which incidentally lasted for another hour.

I hadn't realised I'd slept through the whole drive back to his and Embry's place, until he tried to shut the car door as quietly as was physically possible. When he saw me stir through the window, he mouthed a "sorry…" before grabbing my bag from the back and walking over to my side.

I stumbled out of the car, trying to help myself out before he could reach me. The plan failed miserably since he caught me before I could steady myself. Jacob laughed, the familiar rasp in his voice made me somehow submissive as he began propping me up, "Someone's pooped."

Pooped was one word for it.

Jacob's place was cute. It was a beautifully painted beach house situated near Second Beach. When he first showed me around, I was amused to find that like the Cullen house here in Forks, this place virtually had one wall as a large window segmented into smaller ones. While the overall house was grey, the windows and roof were carefully rimmed with white. The window wall allowed me to peer into his dark loft, which I realised he hadn't utilized yet. The grey house overlooked the broad coastline to the west, and could appreciate the picturesque remnants of the ancient, rocky headlands- sea stacks that _made_ the beaches here.

In many ways, the location of his beach house made so much sense to me. I got the impression it felt like a retreat for him, a perfect place to relax and observe the grandeur of nature and the primal forces sometimes accompanying it.

It was beautiful.

Jacob helped me in, the amusement still evident in his eyes as he placed my bag on the sofa and his keys on the tea table. The interior of the house was light and airy, with modest furnishing matching perfectly with his own personality and tastes. Parts of the walls and floor were covered with lightly bleached wooden panels. It was unpretentious and perfect. The place was a home away from home if I was honest. I considered my own house in Seattle, and how it too, was similar in its simplicity.

Running a hand through his hair, Jacob ambled to his small kitchen, "Did you want anything to eat or drink, or did you want to just sleep first?"

My eyes were wide. It was then that I realised I was no longer even sleepy, and since I didn't eat much at Charlie's, the strawberry laces I had virtually inhaled earlier did nothing to subside the hunger. As if on cue, my stomach decided to play a symphony for Jacob, who still stood there waiting patiently for a reply. I rubbed my painfully clenching abdomen, silently pleading with it to shut up. Jacob only took that as conformation to start flitting about in the kitchen. "Dinner it is."

I stood, my mouth slightly agape, as I observed how he began expertly grabbing a range of ingredients from the refrigerator and started prepping everything without much thought. It dawned on me that since he moved from the rez, ergo away from Emily and Sue, he had to fall back on his own cooking capabilities. The very same ones he acquired as a child.

From a young age, Jacob had fallen into the role of a caregiver and had had responsibilities no small child should ideally ever have to gain so young. From a young age, Jacob had to compartmentalize his priorities- _the pain of losing his mother_, and step up to the obligations that took centre stage in his life: to take care of himself as well as his wheelchair bound father.

Learning how to cook the basics, _to clean,_ were things that must now be considered second nature to him. And while I thought it was heartbreaking for any child to have to be forced to grow up, it occurred to me that Jacob fell into it with such grace.

And I didn't know whether that broke my heart, or made it swell with pride.

"Renesmee?" His gravely voice drew me back, "I'd loved to know what's got you frowning like that, honey…"

I didn't want to dredge up old, painful memories so I shrugged, slumping on a kitchen stool watching him work. He slapped a kitchen towel over a broad shoulder and began cutting up steak into strips. "What are you making?"

"Don't change the subject," he said coyly, adding soy sauce and cornstarch to the meat now.

"I'm not."

"Sure, sure. I just want to know what got you looking _so_ sad so suddenly..."

I didn't say anything and watched as he set the bowl full of meat aside to skilfully cut carrots diagonally. "Is it work?" He asked tentatively. "Is someone bothering you at work? Who's ass do I have to kick?"

"No one's bothering me at work..." I laughed.

"You know I won't stop until you tell me…" he sang, cutting scallions into two-inch lengths now.

"I was just thinking how much you had to learn at such a young age…"

He frowned, adding hot pepper sauce into the mixture now. "No more than you…"

"It's not really the same…" I replied quietly. I was pretty much waited on hand and foot.

His features skewed up in momentary confusion while he added some oil into a large skillet. "You mean, you think I didn't enjoy being a kid for too long because of what happened to my parents..?"

His voice was small, but I could sense the pain was still as fresh as I'm sure it was all those years ago. "I'm sorry, Jake."

We didn't need to talk about this so early into my visit. "It was just…thinking about the things you must've gone through-"

It broke my heart.

"I'm going to have to stop you there-" Jake interrupted as he began to add garlic and ginger into the skillet. "I was a kid, Nessie. I had friends. I went to school…I _played."_

He looked over at me. I was chewing over what I must've done to virtually ruin this evening and he sighed, his features softening as he made his way over to me. "I don't want you looking like that ever again," he said, his voice sounded strangely resolved, yet kind at the same time. "Not over something that happened to me so many years ago…"

I understood why he'd ask that of me, but I didn't consider it was that simple or easy. In all my life, I didn't think Jacob had ever _really_ spoken about how he felt after his mother's death, and how his sisters' abrupt departures left him the sole carer for his father. It was almost horrifying to learn that Jacob was always there for me, content to listen to _my _relatively trivial problems, and yet, his own childhood was filled with loss and a sorrow no child should ever have to experience.

"There is it again…" Jacob spoke, frowning at my expression. "Nessie, don't feel sad."

I shook my head meeting his own concerned eyes and slowly blinked back the tears that welled up in my eyes. "I wasn't just sad. I felt proud. Admiration. I need you to know that it wasn't just the sadness I felt. It was everything."

He blinked softly, smiling. "Beef and mushroom stir fry," he said, his gravely voice gentle as he squeezed my hand one last time to reassure me.

My eyes squinted in confusion.

"It's what I'm making," he explained, heading back to his skillet.

I still felt the warmth as I clutched my hand and twirled in my seat, observing the rest of his living room. To my silent horror, he had an old photo placed on his stone paved mantelpiece, of a pale, bronze-haired child wearing a pair of overgrown sunglasses. I think they were Jasper's, which I 'borrowed' never to be seen again. Adjacent to it, stood a photo of five-year-old Jack Greyson, Jacob's nephew and Paul and Rachel's only son. I stood and walked closer to it. The black-haired little boy had wide, playful eyes under a grove of thick lashes. The impish grin he wore and that I recognized, was Paul's.

To Jack's far left, was a photo of another little girl roughly of the same age enjoying herself at the beach.

Sarah…

Jacob's only niece and Rebecca's only child.

The way the three photos stood standing adjacent to each other looked like the kids in the photos were roughly the same age in appearance. I laughed, thinking there was only a seven-year age gap between the two kids and me. I wondered briefly if that thought ever occurred to Jacob when he'd look at these…

"You know, there was a time when we were all so worried you wouldn't get the childhood you deserved…"

I turned to look him.

"'cause you were growing up so fast…" he explained. "For a long time, it made me sad to think you wouldn't quite get the same number of years we all got and took for granted."

I stared back at the kid with the frenzied bronze mane surrounding her smiling face. She looked happy. She didn't feel like she was missing out on anything. "I never felt like I missed out on anything."

"That might be true, but how could you miss something you never had the chance to experience?"

He always did this. Always made me think.

"You shouldn't feel sad about something that doesn't bother me," I finally said.

He quirked his neck, "But it was hard, wasn't it?" Jacob looked over to me then, "_Physically _growing up that fast had its toll on you, Nessie. I was there. I saw it first hand."

It was no walk in the picnic, but where was he going with this?

"It wasn't so bad…" I lied. But then I realized the onlookers watching me age can't've had an easy ride either. Truth was, while a large chunk of my childhood and adolescence were spent being happy, there were days I couldn't forget even if I wanted to. Days that reminded me that while my mind could easily grow, my half human body couldn't quite recover and adapt as quickly from the changes sweeping through it. These were days spent lying in a foetal position under the comforter, silently writhing in pain and pleading with whatever God up there, to stop making me grow. Every inch of me felt like it was on fire. Every muscle, every bone hurt like hell.

"I hated watching you go through the growth spurts.." Jacob's voice drew me back, and it was as if he was lost for a moment in the past, "almost as much as your family did. You were being such a trooper about the whole thing. Trying to hide the pain made both me and Bella want to cry together…"

I laughed at that.

"Yeah, you laugh, but the point I'm trying to make here is: in some ways, we're the same. Sure, it was hard. Growing up, that is… but I wouldn't be the person I am today if I didn't go through all that crap. Likewise, look at you," He stopped to smile then, "You wouldn't be you…"

I felt the familiar flood of warmth reach my face- a reaction I grew accustomed to when I received unwarranted praise from Jake. I reverted back to ogling the cute baby photos again. "They look so big, now…" I observed.

It'd taken Jacob a while to figure out when he would venture moving out. Since Rachel's indefinite return resulted in her settling down with Paul eight years ago, they decided it was their responsibility now to take care of Billy. The gesture gave Jacob back some of the freedoms he had to previously abandon, but it wasn't until last year when he felt completely at ease with Billy's welfare before completely moving out. Since Alice- after much persuasion- helped him invest some of his existing savings, the steady return that had accumulated over the years made possible his venture into real estate. And I couldn't be happier for him.

He offered me a plate full of delicious meat and colourful veg. The intoxicating smell alone made my stomach growl with want and this didn't go unnoticed by Jake who could only chuckle before skilfully placing a blanket on the hardwood floor.

As a child, I was never completely fond of food since it all tasted relatively the same to me: like dirt. Strangely, like most kids, I grew out of this habit and I reached a private impasse with myself: I'd eat food to avoid looking constantly practically starved- it wasn't a good look for any girl. That, and I remember overhearing the guys in Jake's pack once saying they liked a girl with a bit of meat. After that, I only assumed most men did.

"Yeah," Jacob finally said, effectively drawing me out of my musings. It took me a minute to realise it was in reply to my earlier observation of the kids. "It bugs me that I still haven't met Sarah still..."

Rebecca still resided in Hawaii with her now-retired, professional-surfer-husband, Travis. The last time she'd come to visit her twin sister and little brother was just before she'd found out she'd fallen pregnant with her first child. "There's nothing stopping you from visiting…" I said, digging into the stir-fry.

I had to practically stifle a moan.

"You've only been home a day and you're already trying to get rid of me? Nice, Ness. Real nice."

I had to stop chewing to consider that. "I'd want to come with you." I shoved another mouthful in.

He laughed, digging into his own plate while sitting down opposite the fireplace. I followed suite, only to get annoyed at myself for wearing such a fitted dress flying back home. It was seriously hindering any attempt at sitting cross-legged.

The remnants of the evening were spent in comfortable banter- something I desperately missed and craved since we parted ways a month ago. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I registered that the dependency for Jacob was slowly becoming a serious problem- something I had no problem overlooking, since every laugh and smile was like my guilty pleasure.

Jacob told me Embry wanted me to settle in before heading back home. I told him that really wasn't necessary, but Jake simply shrugged. He told me how Leah's failed attempts to stop phasing over the years were seriously putting her down… How Seth got into law school but faced another problem: his scholarship fell through.

"Why doesn't he just-"

"If you say _'ask my dad?' _I swear_,_ Nessie…" he said, half amused and trailing off.

"What's wrong with getting a loan from Edward? He wouldn't charge interest or anything..."

"That's not the point."

"Be reasonable."

"I am."

It was only when I began stifling my yawns again did we discover it was seriously late. Jacob shot from the floor, taking my empty plate and shoving it in the sink. "I'll deal with that later…let's get you settled in first…you must be exhausted."

I stood up gingerly, taking his brown blanket with me and wrapped it securely around my body. "I'm really not," I lied.

"You sounded so convincing there, Ness," he began, bounding up the spiral stairs so fluidly, "What, between the yawns and heavily lidded blinks!"

I followed him up the stairs pausing to only learn that he hung _more_ photos of me up as a kid. Even pieces of my childhood 'artwork' dangled on the landing wall, and as I stood there, silently horrified, I considered his proposition earlier in the car ride back to Charlie's. "Hey, Jake?" I called over my shoulder, enthused by an old photo of Edward and me at the piano, "You said I had thirteen wishes, right?"

Jacob paused midway to his room to look back up at me. "Yeahh..." he said slowly, tentatively.

"Well, I wish you'd _relax…"_

_And let me stay up past my bedtime._

He smiled that devastating smile, and my mouth nearly fell slack. "Trust me when I say this is the most relaxed I've been in months."

That worried me. "That doesn't sound too great."

"We've got all the time in the world to talk about everything. Now though…" He said, gesturing to the left and opening up his own bedroom door. "This is where you'll be sleeping."

I dropped my gaze from a photo of bronze-haired kid embarrassingly absorbed at the piano and peered inside the room. I'd seen Jacob's room before when he'd first considered buying the place. He'd changed it since then of course. There was a warm greyish hue on the walls and white splashed everywhere else. The warm red satin bedcovers I noticed were the only things that didn't mesh well, affording a stark, feminine contrast to the surrounding masculine décor.

I tried to ignore the close proximity we were in while he stood holding the door for me as I ventured in.

His efforts to accommodate my stay were so adorable that I looked up at him, trying to not show my secret amusement, but my appreciation. I found him casually leaning against the doorframe, his massive arms crossed over the large expanse of his chest and made the black sweater he wore hunch up. I think I caught him staring at me staring at his work. "You know I'm perfectly happy with the sofa, Jake."

"Yeah, and I'm perfectly happy with you being _perfectly happy_ in my bed."

No sooner had the words left his mouth did realization blanch his face. I couldn't stop laughing.

"Crap. I mean… I didn't mean what you think I meant. I meant _a_ bed. In general. Not my bed _specifically._ Instead of a sofa…"

I choked on air gripping my cramped stomach and collapsed on to his bed, still laughing.

Jacob sighed, frustrated. "Wasn't _that _funny."

Before I could reply, he supplied a chaste kiss to the top of my head effectively shutting me up. "G'night, Renesmee."

He went to close the door.

"Wait!" I choked out desperately, weak from my fit on his bed. I reached out for him meekly, "I'll stop laughing-"

Jacob narrowed his eyes sceptically and I bit my lip to stop myself. "It wasn't so much what you said as much as it was you explaining what you meant, which_ by the way, _was obvious."

I sniggered again.

"I'll be downstairs if you need me," he interrupted deliberately, "_Getting some shut-eye."_

"Home sweet home!" I called back out scathingly at his receding form.

I fell back on my back, exasperated and a little on the dramatic-side for anyone to really appreciate it, and took a few deep breaths. My body ached from all the laughing, but I didn't care. I hadn't laughed so hard in the longest time and had to wipe away a stray tear as a result. Only when I'd fully recovered did I noticed the state I was in. My dress had ridden up quite a generous bit and I immediately shot back up, ramrod straight. In a panic, I silently questioned whether giving Jake an embarrassing eye-full was the real reason he left.

I groaned into my hands, 'Kill me,' I whispered so quietly I doubted Jacob could work out what the muffling sounds were.

Since the damage was already done, I decided I wouldn't dwell on what it all meant and got off the huge bed. It didn't seem right that he'd give little-old-me this massive beast, when he was downstairs probably cramped up on the sofa. But as I stripped away the conspiring-dress while rifling through my bag for something comfortable to sleep in, I couldn't help noticing how secretly thrilling it was to stand in his room nothing more than my bra and panties. My heart hammering painfully hard in my chest, I stood to glance at the full sized mirror hung up on his wardrobe.

In nothing but a black bra and a pair of boy-shorts, the half naked girl staring vacantly back hadn't changed her appearance in over three years of hitting maturity. The constantly changing face I grew to expect every morning, was no longer different. And this was now me: a five foot ten, slender looking girl.

A slender looking half naked girl. I was half naked in Jacob Black's room.

It bothered me how I got a kick out of that fact.

Without looking away, I unclasped the back of my bra, in favour of eventually pulling on a camisole and a pair of shorts on. There was a sliver of moonlight slipping through a crack of a covered window, hitting my unusual alabaster skin and making it glow. I stared at my almost naked self again.

Nothing ordinary, but nothing remarkably extraordinary either.

I was nothing like Rose or endearing as my mother, but my eyes were my own and something for me to like. I stepped closer to the mirror, forgetting how long it'd been since I last really looked at myself. Among other things, they were the last vestiges of my mother's humanity inherent in me.

What did Jacob think when he looked me in the eye and he saw his former human best friend's eyes duplicated exactly in mine? Did he feel sad, indifferent or happy?

The more I considered these questions, the more I felt sad, and I didn't know why. One thing I did know, however, and that was sleep had now been lost on me.

Not wanting Jacob to get the wrong idea with the skimpy camisole I planned on wearing to sleep, I dived into his wardrobe and threw on one of his t-shirts.

I peered out into the small hallway, grimacing once more at my childhood being captured in its various stages on his wall. My inherently advanced hearing didn't pick up on any slight movements downstairs and I considered the possibility he really had just crashed.

Wouldn't surprise me. I resented his uncanny ability to sleep at will.

Too curious, I took a deliberate step forward into the hallway and ignored how the soft groan of protest from the hardwood floors sounded louder than they actually were, and made my way down. My breath hitched when I realised Jacob's _half naked,_ form lay slummed on the sofa as I took my last, clumsy step.

From where I was stood, his breathing seemed deep, even and slow and like a curious creep, I softly padded towards him, just to see if he was really sleeping.

I stood inches from him, my own breathing strangely shallow as I bent down to observe him closer. God he was beautiful. His face was so relaxed and sweet and I honestly couldn't stop staring. It itched not to reach out and stroke his face. He looked so vulnerable right now.

'Can't believe you're_ really _asleep…' I murmured, half annoyed and more to myself.

The thin comforter barely covering him, exposed over half his already bare torso. While I admit, this left me just shamelessly gawking again, I went to gently cover him up with it. 'You look cute when you're dreaming…'

I could've sworn Jacob's lips twitched and I narrowed my eyes sceptically. Given his even breathing, I tried to dismiss it as a coincidence, but if he were still awake, I decided I could just as easily have fun with this.

I went to stroke his hair, the raven locks felt soft as silk as I ran my finger gently threw them, trying not to enjoy it as much as I was. 'I wish my hair was this straight and short. Boys don't know how easy they have it.'

My fingers coasted lightly down the side of his face and I revelled at the stark contrast between how soft yet at the same time, remarkably hard his skin was. 'Your stubble always fascinates me…'

He held his composure well.

I swept lightly over his defined jaw line, over his cute dimpled bum-chin, stopping only to hover over his full, plump lips. 'You would've made a really pretty girl, Jacob."

Jacob's brow twitched, but he didn't move.

I leaned in deliberately close, "You want to know a secret, Jake?"

Still nothing.

I sighed in resignation and took his sleeping face in one last time before turning to reluctantly go back up. Out of nowhere, however, one firm hand shot out from under the comforter and latched tightly onto my wrist.

A mix between a hiss and a shriek escaped my lips, and I instinctively jerked away.

"I want to know the secret."

Dazed and barely recovered, I looked back at him blankly, "What?"

I was sure the exploding guffaw that followed was louder than the crashing waves outside.

"Jesus, Jacob, why would you do that?"

He looked at me for a brief moment before bursting into another fit and collapsing onto the couch.

I waited. I waited, before my patients got the better of me and slugged him one on the arm. This only served to make the situation worse.

"Wanted to make you scream," he finally croaked out, wiping a stray tear away.

"There's something seriously wrong with you."

"Hey," he said putting his hands up in mock defence, "I'm not the one touching people's faces when they're asleep and calling them cute."

"That was deliberate."

"And how does that make things better exactly?"

"Shut up."

Jacob laughed again and I stifled an eye roll, sitting myself indignantly on the floor against his couch and switching his TV on. When the laughter subsided, Jacob propped himself on his elbow and I could practically feel his eyes burning holes on the back of my head as I stared blankly at the screen.

"What?" I finally spat out.

"Nice t-shirt."

"Thanks!"

"Looks familiar."

"Maybe you saw it on Seth and decided you wanted one?"

Jacob sniggered, clearly enjoying how easily riled up I was getting. He deliberately shifted himself onto his stomach, jostling me along with him, as he hugged his pillow to him. "Looks better on you anyway…"

"Won't dispute that…"

Jacob laughed. If only he knew it largely had to do with my preference for a shirtless Jacob…

"Not that I'm complaining, but why are you down here, Ness?"

"Can't sleep."

His lips skewed up slightly, "So you thought I'd like to stay up all night with you too?"

"Did you want me to go? I can go."

I stood up to leave, but before I could storm off, Jacob yanked me back down and accidentally pulled me into him with only one massive arm. The full force alone made me misplace my balance and I fell awkwardly on him, my ass landing firmly on his hard stomach.

He made a strangled noise –something between a strained, painful grunt and a choking laugh.

"I'd ask if you were alright, but it serves you right for manhandling me."

I slapped his protesting hands away.

"Just get under the covers," he groaned, sitting up to pull a grey t-shirt on and give me room to slip in next to him, "…I honestly forgot how heavy you are."

I tried to elbow his side but the jerk was too quick for me.

"I thought I was interrupting your sleep?"

"You weren't. Not when I didn't wanna go to sleep either."

I looked up at him curiously, "Not when I'm listening to you shuffle around like a graceful elephant upstairs."

Outraged, "You calling me fat, Black?"

"No. Just explaining to you how I predicted when you'd finally come to me."

I narrowed my eyes, but I couldn't find myself to get annoyed again. Not when I was completely enraptured by his mucky scent and his heat so close to me. Under the thick grove of lashes, his eyes too, were so soft, I was sure he could get away with anything, and his annoyingly impish grin was truly a sight for sore eyes.

So we sat there, snuggled under the comforter, watching shows we weren't particularly interested in until, I assumed, we both fell asleep against each other…

* * *

_Author's note:_

_At the risk of sounding repetitive, a million thanks to Pinkpower. She knows how much I love her, so I'll shut up._

_Yes, I have a massive girl crush on Rose. Yes, I have an equally massive man-crush on Jacob. And yes, this was a ridonkulous chapter. :P_

_Any questions? Links to Jacob's car and his beach house are on my profile._

_Back stories are always cool. If people think Jacob's past hasn't been as fleshed out, it's because it will be later on. I find Jacob's past so interesting and a reason we don't see much of it is Bella was never the girl to find all that out. ;) TEAM NESSIE FTW._

_I've had a busy couple of months. Graduating next week with a BA! Hope all are well? RnR please? It's always a reason to continue with this :)_


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